THE FIVE
by TheCaviarPen
Summary: "Just like the mob, New York prep schools have their own five families." - Gossip Girl. A story set in reel time of the Gossip Girl universe. The original elites are adults and it's time for the new crop to reek havoc. Five girls with aristocratic lineage, luxury taste buds and an attraction for drama.
1. Intro

ɢᴏʀɢᴇᴏᴜs ɢɪʀʟs ɪɴ ᴄᴏᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ ɢᴏᴡɴs. ᴀʟʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ᴛᴇᴇᴛʜ, sʜɪᴍᴍᴇʀɪɴɢ ʜᴀɪʀ, ғᴜʟʟ ʟɪᴘs ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ʀᴜɴᴡᴀʏ ǫᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ. ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴇʏᴇs sᴍɪʟᴇ. ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴊᴇᴡᴇʟs ᴀʀᴇ ʙʟɪɴᴅɪɴɢ. ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄᴀʀs ᴀʀᴇ ғᴀsᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ғᴜʀɪᴏᴜs. ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴇʟɪᴛᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛs ʟᴀsᴛ ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴅᴀᴡɴ. ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ʟɪᴇs, ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ʟɪɴᴇs. ᴅᴇsɪɢɴᴇʀ sʜᴏᴇs, ᴅᴇsɪɢɴᴇʀ ᴅʀᴜɢs ᴀɴᴅ ʟɪᴠᴇs ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʟᴜxᴇ, ʀᴜᴍᴏʀs, ᴇɴᴠʏ, ᴀɴᴅ sᴘʟᴇɴᴅᴏʀ. sᴏᴄɪᴀʟɪᴛᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇʙᴜᴛᴀɴᴛᴇs ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴄᴏᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀᴜᴛᴇ ᴊᴏᴀɪʟʟᴇʀɪᴇ.

* * *

 **THE ETHEREAL PRINCESS**

 **Yale-Rose Rockefeller** of the Rockefeller Supremacy

The embodiment of class, style and wealth. Yale-Rose isn't the girl you love to hate, she's the girl you admire. You hang on her every word as you watch her in awe. She's a gorgeous socialite who was born into an aristocratic family and a lavish lifestyle everyone else has always wanted. Everything she wears is designer and she never has to wear the same thing twice. The Princess doesn't have to resort to gimmicks, scandals and Instagram fame, her status is evident and isn't going anywhere. The Upper East Sides very own Pippa Middleton and The great-great granddaughter of banker and philanthropist David Rockefeller - and social media personality.

 **THE VIXEN**

 **Marpessa Monroe** _of the French -Creole Monroe Family_

Now, _here's_ the girl you love to hate. Tied up in one scandal after the next. Stealing boyfriends and modeling the latest off the runway through her elite quarters. Richer than anyone could imagine, the daughter of a Creole designer, of a popular men's fashion brand, Bastian Monroe, whom moved his business from France to New Orleans and finally New York all for the love of Marpessa's mother Lilly-Marie a witch and socialite. Fashion sense worthy of Vogue, face worthy of Fenty Beauty and a body worthy of Playboy. Just about everyone is waiting in line and if they're on the lucky list that has had the pleasure of being with her than they're back around waiting on round two. She has a reputation that can be easily over looked once you look at her, or her Instagram feed. Marpessa's eccentric mother was raised to be a high priestess voodoo queen with a notorious skill for getting cheating husbands to behave and unruly teens in line with her spells. As a result, there's not a married woman in the greater tri-state area whose business Lily-Marie doesn't know, meaning there's not a Upper East Side teenager whose business Marpessa doesn't know.

 **THE BOMBSHELL**

 **Beatrix Cali** _of the Cali Family- and the Gambino Crime Empire_

B.C. is the new queen on the social scene. The one everyone wants to get their hands on. She has an undeniable star quality. A certain mixture of sex and elegance spun into one devious smirk and scarlet colored lips. Girls who don't know her envy her. Guys who don't know her, lust over her and her Instagram feed. The type of girl that doesn't have to leave her extravagant home for anything and everyone is wondering where she's been and how she just appeared from nothing. The one thing known about her, is her family is filthy rich thanks to being members of the actual 'Five Family' in the New York crime scene.

 **THE FIRE-CRACKER**

 **Mahsuri Yeoh** _heiress to the YTL Corporation_

The girl you run towards when you want a good time. Everyone who's ever thought there was no such thing as too much money and power has never met her. Born rich. Born gorgeous. The heiress, is the only daughter of Dato' Sri Michael Yeoh and Datin Sri Tina Yeoh. Her paternal grandfather is businessman Tan Sri Dato' Seri Yeoh Tiong Lay, the founder of YTL Corporation, and Suri has been dubbed our version of Paris Hilton. She's a camera captivator and everyone follows her every move. With the hottest guys on one arm and the hottest bags on the other, Her life is a luxury Instagram feed that we all love to scroll through. She's a magnet for trouble and has a taste for excitement and lush. She's had everything she ever needed on a silver platter and she decided on mixing a few too many percocets hidden her exclusive Birkin bag. Her society fame is on the level of Paris and Lindsay. Once the sweetest dream girl you've ever met, now a beautiful night mare.

 **THE BABY DOLL**

 **Abigail Walton** _of the Walton Fortune_

The one who gasps at a dirty joke. Her ascetic consists of bashful whispers, giggles and expensive pale pink. The virgin. Somehow she's been looped into the 'Five Families', being reigned in the 'alpha' of The Spence School for girls, most likely because of her graceful nature, crisp white teeth and clenched pearls secured her spot as the most talked about even though there's never been much to say about her. Baby Doll is everything that everyone promises God they'll become if he just gets them out of their champagne wasted, glitter vomited night alive. The one you take home to mom while having a few other to the side in the background. The model child of the aristocratic society. Heir to Walmart + the royal family of Scotland.

* * *

Which girl do you think will be your favorite? Thank you to the person who sent in the application for 'Marpessa'! I love her. Still time to send in characters applications just check the previous chapter. The application will be gone when the first chapter arrives.


	2. The Un-Loved Club

ᴅɪsᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ: ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟ ɴᴀᴍᴇs ᴏғ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇs, ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ᴀʙʙʀᴇᴠɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴛ. ɴᴀᴍᴇʟʏ, ᴍᴇ.

ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀs ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀʙᴇʟs. ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴏᴏʀ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴀɪʟ,ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏsᴛ ɪᴍᴘᴏʀᴛᴀɴᴛʟʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʟᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ. ɪᴛ's ᴀ ʙɪᴛᴄʜ ᴇᴀᴛ ʙɪᴛᴄʜ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀɴʜᴀᴛᴛᴀɴ ʙʀᴇᴇᴅs ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴏʟᴠᴇs ᴡɪᴛʜ sᴛɪʟᴇᴛᴛᴏ ᴄʟᴀᴡs ᴀɴᴅ ᴅɪᴀᴍᴏɴᴅ ғᴀɴɢs. ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪғᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪᴄʜ, ᴘʀɪᴠɪʟᴇɢᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪғᴜʟ ᴛᴇᴇɴᴀɢᴇʀs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛʀʏ. ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴇɴᴛᴇʀ ᴏғ ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴏʀᴋ, ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴏʀᴋ – ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʟɪᴛᴇs. ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴʟʏ sᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ ᴏғ ᴍᴀɴʜᴀᴛᴛᴀɴ's ᴇʟɪᴛᴇ. ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀs ɢᴏ ʙʏ, ɢᴏssɪᴘ ɢɪʀʟ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀ sᴛᴀᴘʟᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴀɴʜᴀᴛᴛᴀɴ ᴇʟɪᴛᴇ ɢᴏssɪᴘ. ᴛᴍᴢ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡs ᴜs, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ sᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴍᴇʀɪᴄᴀ's ᴛʀᴜᴇ sᴏᴄɪᴀʟɪᴛᴇs. ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀsᴋᴇᴛʙᴀʟʟ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴋᴀʀᴅᴀsʜɪᴀɴ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀʙᴇᴇs. ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇs ᴡɪᴛʜ ʀᴇᴀʟ ᴍᴏɴᴇʏ. ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀs, ɢʀᴀɴᴅ-ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ-ɢʀᴀɴᴅғᴀᴛʜᴇʀs ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ʟɪғᴛ ᴀ ғɪɴɢᴇʀ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʀᴜɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛʀʏ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇsᴄᴇɴᴅᴀɴᴛs ᴏғ ᴀᴍᴇʀɪᴄᴀɴ ᴀʀɪsᴛᴏᴄʀᴀᴛɪᴄ ғᴀᴍɪʟɪᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴏʏᴀʟ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ʟɪɴᴇs. ᴏʟᴅ ᴍᴏɴᴇʏ. ɴᴏᴛ ᴍᴏɴᴏᴘᴏʟʏ ᴍᴏɴᴇʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴋɪᴅs ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ. ɪᴛ's ᴀ ʟᴜsʜ ʟɪғᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ʜᴀs ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ ɪᴛ. ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ sᴇᴇ ᴜs sᴛʀᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ғɪғᴛʜ ᴀᴠᴇ. sʜᴀʀɪɴɢ ʏᴏɢᴜʀᴛ ᴄᴜᴘs ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴇᴘs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍɪxɪɴɢ ᴡʜɪsᴋᴇʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ sᴛᴀʀʙᴜᴄᴋs ᴠᴇɴᴛᴇ.

 **SIGHTINGS**

 **Y** having a custom fitting at Karl Lagerfeld. **M** and her mother having brunch at the BlueBox cafe. S having her annual walk of shame down Chelsea ave. **H** \+ **D** arguing at a taxi outside of the landmark that has the same name as them. And one shaggy blonde with Tiffany box blue eyes and a Crest white smile lugging Gucci luggage at the International airport. _Say it ain't so_. Declared missing for almost two years, William 'Boe' Hilton , our favorite 'trust-fund dick', was seen by multiple sources at the JFK airport. Even after two years and a Y-3 hoodie covering your face we recognize those all American cheekbones anywhere. And just in time for Auntie Jessica Hilton's annual 'Boe Bash' in remembrance of her missing nephew. The iconic last Hilton is back and I'm sure ready to cause trouble. But, is anyone wondering where he was? I'll find out. And who am I? That's a secret I'll never tell.

Xoxo,Gossip Girl

 **I joined the club and it's all on**

 **There are fights for being my best friend**

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Yale-Rose Rockefeller stood in the dressing room of the beau monde castle that was Karl Lagerfeld New York. She was invited personally along with the delivery of the seasons fashions. Yale wasn't just an 'it girl' she was thee it girl. She was the girl everyone wanted to have in their corner. No one else in the city got the perks that she did. Not Marpessa Monroe, not Mahsuri Yeoh and not Giselle Hilton. She was Don Rocky. The queen of queens. None of the other girls had anything on her. She watched her amazing figure in the dressing room mirror. She admired how sexy she looked in her black Savage X lace teddy. She almost took a picture. But she wasn't stupid and she wasn't Kylie Jenner. She had an image that didn't need gimmicks. Not even if the picture was only for the eyes of Prince Hilton. Prince, yes that's his actual name was her elite boyfriend. The all American boy. He had devilishly handsome looks, a jawline for days, and a trophy case of achievements. He looks so good on her arm. And she actually loved him. A rarity in their lifestyle. She knew people who married for money, notoriety and rivieras. What the high society contenders did was marry for a name almost as powerful as the one they were born with. And Prince was of the American dynasty. And Yale was already of the Rockefeller family. But Boe was king. He was Prince's hot older cousin. Prince did right by his first name and was the poster child for the society. He was a jock with good grades and good teeth. He was the child the society showed off. Prince was next in line to take over the company and coined the one to revive the Hilton families infamy. Boe was the wild child who took after his older cousins Paris and Nicki, even his great uncle Conrad Hilton Jr. He was always in the middle of a grand scandal. From DUI's, drug busts and prostitution. There was a such thing as too much money and unlike their friend Suri, Boe Hilton made being bad look good. It was a double standard but it was true. Something about his troublesome ways were sexy. Even though the blonde playboy vacationed in the Hamptons and attended an elite private school but he acted out. Almost all the time. Everyone let it slide because he was 'troubled'. When in reality he was just a dick. A hot 'dick' with a - anyways, Boe was always the top of the food chain similar to Yale but she fell for his brother when they were only twelve years old. Two years ago, at Boe's 15th birthday - the biggest event of the society, he went missing. Everyone figured he was off having one of his 'lost weekends' until too many weekends past and turned to months of him not being around. Not even a sighting from Gossip Girl. Soon after, he was declared missing. A year later his father Steven Hilton and his mother, Jessica Buckley threw a 'Boe Bash'. A huge 'sweet sixteen' to celebrate her son planned by his siblings. It became annual and Prince always felt more stressed then when Boe was around and he had to 'baby sit' him. Nothing was ever the same since Boe disappeared. Prince wasn't the same. If only he knew what else happened that night. Aside from the 'Boe Bash', 'Kiss on the lips' was another huge event. It was a week before the 'Boe Bash'. It was legendary and Yale was the host. She already booked the Copacabana and she wouldn't let Boe's arrival overshadow her.

"Did you see?" Yale heard from the other side of the dressing room in a french accent. It was Marpessa Monroe - no relation to Marilyn. She wasn't really a 'Monroe'. Gossip Girl said she was at the Blue Box Cafe. The same Gossip Girl post probably led Marpessa straight to the KL dressing rooms to see Yale in person. She went to Brearley School. She was slim but curvy. She had the most gorgeous chocolate brown skin and long, dark hair that she always wore straight. She was always dressed perfectly and was Yale's favorite queen. Don-Roe was also rich as hell, her father was a legendary French designer and her mother was a voodoo priestess. Yes. There was something about Marpessa that always intimidated her. And since knowing her, she realized it was better to just be her friend. "He's back." Marpessa spoke in a devious tone. Yale could hear her smirk as she slid into her Givenchy dress to talk with Monroe. She met Marpessa when she moved to Manhattan from New Orleans. She was Boe's most recent 'girlfriend' before he went missing. They both slept around and made fools of one another. Their relationship was more entertaining than reality television. The tabloids loved it. They even printed excerpts from Gossip Girl. The rumor was that Marpessa got tired of the back and forth and had her mother put a hex on him.

"Yeah." Yale said nonchalantly. She never saw the hype around Boe. Okay, that was a lie. But she couldn't admit it as long as she was with Prince. "So?"

"You worried?" Marpessa asked. Her head tilted as she examined Yale. Yale's face stayed like stone but so did Marpessa's.

"Should I be?" Yale questioned. There was one thing that kept Yale and Marpessa's friendship in check. It was a secret that no one knew except for Marpessa. She kept it for years as a way to taunt Yale when she needed the upper hand.

"Worried?" Marpessa repeated. However, she wasn't confused about anything. She sounded more than valiant. Her head was high, her posture was as perfect as her teeth while she faced Yale Rockefeller dead on. "I just mean that the Upper East Side just got interesting." Marpessa winked. "Come on, Rock, weren't you getting bored?" She asked rhetorically. Yale's hazel eyes studied the heel of Marpessa's Giuseppe Zanotti shoes as they spun out of the door of the fashion outlet. Yale scanned the area for .. well she didn't know, reactions of the return? What she wanted to do about everything. For Christs sake, who tipped Gossip Girl off that she was at KL's. Gossip Girl had been trailing Yale Rockefeller and her friends since their eighth grade year. Yale's peers were among American history's creme de la creme. Aristocratic royalty. Sure, Gossip Girl started with a 'lonely boy' and a pipe dream of being apart of the 'In' Crowd and ended with Daniel Humphrey marrying the Manhattan made vixen that is Serena van der Woodsen. Dan's little blog became a staple in Manhattan culture and was still more than prominent. The tradition continued and after six years expanded from the halls of Constance Saint Jude prep school's social scene and now covers the entire 'Five'. Considering that Yale's generation was a gold mine in social status. All five schools had prominent contenders. Way back in like, 2007, when fashion designer Blair Waldorf was the 'Constance Queen B', she created a group with the queens from the most powerful private schools in Manhattan to discuss their respective reigns and to grant each queen one favor. Yale was always an 'It Girl'. Her last name was Rockefeller. The standing of the Five was based around where Yale wanted to go to school and everyone else would have to fall in line. Yale knew she wanted the title of 'Don-Constance', hence why she dragged her best friend Giselle to the elite prep-school with Prince, Boe and Yale's cousins Harvard and Duke who all had to be sent to St. Judes in order to 'keep them together'. Yale and Giselle had been attached at the hip since birth. Their families had a feud for the history books but their mothers are best friends. And now they are. Giselle was blonde, tall and thin. She has natural buttery blonde hair and unnatural full pink lips - though her Instagram fans go to bat to defend her claims. Yale was an only child, true, but aside from her cousins - Giselle felt like family. However, since Boe was back Yale mentally decided to avoid both Giselle and Prince until she couldn't anymore. The floral wrap dress hugged her chest perfectly and her legs were perfectly tanned thanks to 'Sugared + Bronzed'. She grabbed her classic Louis Vuitton bag and the dress bags she planned on getting sent to her family's townhouse. Once she walked out of the store she could feel the eyes and the pictures being sent to Gossip Girl and fashion blogs. She didn't mind it. She did mind the social frenzy being granted thanks to Boe's arrival. She also minded the fact that she had two seconds to avoid it before getting text messages from everyone she knew.

 **momma rock**

Did you see this?

 _*gossip girl link*_

William is back?!

ROC-nation groupchat via iMessages

 **duke**

what the fuck man?! boe is back? he's alive.

 **harvey**

how the fuck could he hide for two fuckin years?!

what'd p say?

 **my love.**

babe?

you done with shopping?

i need to talk...

like, obviously.

Incoming call from GiGi

Yale climbed into her families Lincoln Continental and dug her iPhone X out of her purse. She sighed slightly and rubbed her glossed lips together as she mentally prepared herself for the conversation. Yale was close to her twin cousins Harvard and Duke Rockefeller. They were like siblings. But Giselle and Prince literally grew up beside Boe. And when he went 'missing' it effected their family. So now that he was mysteriously back she figured that her best friend and her boyfriend were going crazy. "Is it true?" was the first thing Yale asked curiously.

"I-" Giselle's voice cracked. Giselle was always the picture of 'calm, cool and collected' which is why Yale was taken back by her tone. "There's a picture on Gossip Girl and it's blurry as fuck Yale!" Giselle sighed slighly. Yale adjusted herself in the back seat as she listened to Giselle's silence. They were kindred, she thought she could hear her feelings. As the car was stalled in traffic, Yale gestured for her driver to stay halted as she got out of the car. Yale had her own issues with Boe's arrival and as usual Yale's feelings were her first priority. However, Giselle needed her to get her shit together and be there for her. Yale stepped out of the car and into Laduree and felt soothed. The mint green had to be a form of emotion stabilizer because the place always cleared her soul.

"So you don't think he's really back?" Thank god.

"The thing is .. we've been searching forever. The idea of him being back is amazing of course but he hasn't been home or reached out yet." Giselle explained. "But, Gossip Girl has never posted anything about him being back all the other scares. She's been respectful about it in the past so this could be different." Boe's disappearance and search made global news. He was a 'Hilton' after all. It was a hot topic for a very long time and was still mentioned. There became Instagram challenges and 'Where's Will' games around New York where the 'Boe Hilton' fan-clubs dressed in Gucci suit jackets and sunglasses having their own scavenger hunt. Giselle was right, Gossip Girl stayed silent through the hoaxes. Not to mention Boe was resourceful. He didn't need to go back to the Hilton Manor.

"Can I get a 'Pink Napoleon'?" Yale asked the girl at the front counter, referring to a pink box containing a dozen macrons.

"I'll have Blanca make Bellinis when you get here." Giselle stated through the speaker of Yale's cellphone.

"Is Prince home?"

"I haven't seen him yet." Giselle confessed.

"You think he's seen Boe?" Yale asked calmly as she returned to her family car that was now holding up traffic. Yale was told at a very young age the world stopped at the bat of her eyelashes. As a child, she thought the sense was literal. As if while she slept, the entire atmosphere paused and only resumed when she was awake. She grew up and realized it wasn't exactly true. But she could still carry on as if it were. Why does she care about the car behind her with the middle aged female driver and the bratty baby in the back car seat have to wait an extra five to ten minutes for her to get macrons? Manhattan is the traffic wasteland of the entire world. A mile down the busy street and they'll all be stuck again. Yale sat in the back of the LC and thought up a mental list of things that changed over the course of two years and how their very own 'Heff' changed himself. Shit, how'd he feel about the death of his grand idols - Hugh Hefner and Charles Manson?

"It's possible." Giselle sounded unconvinced. Giselle and Boe were ten times closer than Prince and Boe. Prince always felt like he was in Boe's shadows since their childhood, Boe's always been the one with the most attention. Giselle sounded unconvinced that Prince and Boe would reconnect before Giselle saw her cousin. "I need to see him,"

"P?"

"Boe." Giselle corrected. "It's been two years. I'm pissed but I'll probably cry." The girl sighed slightly, rubbing her lips together. Yale scanned the scenery of the Upper East Side through the window of her 2018 Bentley Continental GT. Everyone was on their phone caught up in something that seemed compelling. They couldn't all be reading Gossip Girls latest post of Boe Hilton. Kylie Jenner was just listed on Forbes' self-made billionaires and took out her lip fillers. New York rapper Cardi B just had her baby. Boe Hilton left and the world revolved around him. He's back and now her head was spinning with thoughts of the blonde. Yale's hazel-doe eyes read over Gossip Girls post once more, refreshing to see if anyone in the Upper East Side knew where Boe went after his arrival.

 **And the girls get their claws out**

 **There's something about hanging out with the wicked kids**

Marpessa Monroe, 'The Vixen', let her body daintily fall within her dance partner, Elijah Hamilton. Their bodies intertwined gracefully as they danced to a ballet rendition of Nirvana's 'Smells Like Teen Spirit'. They had two months left to make their dance as bounteous as a Kardashian's ass and as touching as Louis Walsh for the latest Du Pont wedding in September. Their were words of champagne fountains and ice sculptures at the 620 and Marpessa was personally invited to the elite and extravagant event. Her chiffon dress swayed with her hips as she kept an inflexible face during the dance. The 'Dance With Me' SoHo location was one of the most elite dance studios and definitely the nicest which is why Lilly-Marie - Marpessa's mother, did everything she needed to do to get her daughter into the same dance studio as Maks and Val Chmerkovskiy. Now Marpessa was dancing at the wedding of Americas elite. Marpessa Monroe was born wealthy. France was the most elite place in the entire world and it bred her. France made her as classy as she was. NOLA made her as cunning as she was. And Manhattan made it all marketable. Marpessa was the new girl a few years back. She showed up at Brearly and everyone was fascinated. They loved how she looked, how she dressed, her accent. She was a ballerina with an urban nonchalance about her. It never came hard for her. She hadn't even known what the 'Queens of Constance' was until she was offered her spot. And that's when all the fun began. She could still remember it like yesterday. An only fourteen year old Yale-Rose Rockefeller met her at the staircase of the Metropolitan Museum. She was wearing a Burberry trench coat with an ombre effect covering the god awful Constance Billard uniform. The uniform was the reason Marpessa didn't settle at Constance when her mother presented her with a list of the five top schools in Manhattan and now she knows she probably couldn't become a queen if she had to go against Yale Rockefeller. She'd never admit it, but her social status was actually easier with Yale as her peer.

"That one, amazing." Elijah smirked at Marpessa through the mirrors reflection of them. The dance ended with Marpessa's legs in the air and Elijah's knees on the wooden floor. It would be sexy if Elijah was straight. His skin looked like gold. It was almost shimmering like his soft green eyes. He had full pink lips that were in the shape of a heart and his body - was a dancers body.

"You have an amazing dance partner." Marpessa bit her glossed lips watching his eyes with a captivating beam. She didn't bother adjusting her clothing. The chocolate toned girl attempted things with Elijah a few times over the years but nothing changed in his mind or his sexuality. She no longer minded.

"Eh. We know that I'm the one that makes you look good." Elijah smirked.

"Stop!" Marpessa giggled slightly, hitting Elijah's arm watching him for a moment before making her way to her classic Gucci duffle bag shuffling for her iPhone X. Her deep sienna irises observed the screen for a moment upon noticing Elijah's presence over her shoulder. "What?" She asked, adding a modest snicker.

"You know where he is?" Elijah gestured towards the latest picture of Boe Hilton that had been posted on every blog starting with the infamous Gossip Girl. Marpessa could remember the conversations she had with Elijah from years ago. She had become smitten with Boe. Or, better yet, the idea of being the main girl on Boe's arm. He showed her off to the entire society. Sure, they had their issues and Gossip Girl broad-casted them for the world but being the first black Hilton had a ring to it that kept Marpessa 'in it'. Elijah didn't understand how Marpessa could be so 'inlove' with Boe, and she would never tell him how vein she really was. It felt pathetic at times that she'd put up with womanizing antics for a title. It was 2018 and women had the power. Marpessa knew she didn't need any guy to get far in life but the idea of it all fascinated her. "Have you known?" Marpessa was Boe's 'girlfriend' before his disappearance and her name had been tied up in multiple rumors surrounding the occurrence. She had been questioned by cops, politicians, reporters, socialites and now her dance partner.

"Maybe." No. if everyone thought that Marpessa had a hit on the biggest society mystery in years, she'd rank higher than Yale for sure.

"Maybe? You still fucking with him?" Elijah chuckled.

"You know he's hot." Marpessa pointed out.

"Everyone in the Upper East, West, North and Brooklyn knows he's fine as hell." Elijah chuckled. He always swore he'd get his shot at Boe Hilton. Marpessa knew that Boe had a pony list that could compete with the Kentucky Derby but she never knew any guys made this list. "So?"

"So?" Marpessa giggled slightly, rubbing her lips together. "You'll know where Boe is when he wants to be found." Marpessa winked.

"Well apparently the 'Where's William' games are getting more interesting this year."

ATTENTION

ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴄᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴀɴɴᴜᴀʟ 'ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ's ᴡɪʟʟ' ɢᴀᴍᴇs ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇɢɪɴ ɴᴏᴡ. ᴛʀᴀᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛɪʟᴇᴛᴛᴏs ғᴏʀ ʏᴇᴇᴢʏ sɴᴇᴀᴋᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴜʀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏɴ. ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍ ᴋᴇɴɴᴇᴅʏ ɪs ʙᴀᴄᴋ ɪɴ ᴍᴀɴʜᴀᴛᴛᴀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴜs ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴇ ɪs ɢᴇᴛs ᴀ sᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴘʀɪᴢᴇ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟɪɴᴇ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ 'ᴋɪss ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴘs' ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡs ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ʀᴏᴜɢʜ.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

 **Take the pill make it too ill**

Suri's long and tanned legs paraded around Carl Schurz Park with her high-waisted Good American jeans, her Le Pain Quotidien Yorkville shopping bag and a smirk on her face. Her cinnamon croissant got her through the dark days and having a criminal for a father put a slight damper on her mornings. Sure, Dato' Sri Michael Yeoh committed a 'rich people' crime. Suri's father was investigated for economic crimes in Malaysia's sweeping review of systemic risk. She had no idea what that meant but she knew that $1.7 billion worth of assets were seized. Luckily for Suri her father was smart. A couple millions were put to there side. A couple more million were sent to her grandparents in Malaysia. Her father was sentenced to 18 years in prison for fundraising fraud and embezzlement but she and her mother were still filthy rich. Not that it helped the country club queens that gave Suri and her mother the Louboutin boot when they arrived in the Hamptons. Luckily for her social status, the parties in Manhattan had better drugs and the highest ranked elites stayed in the city this year - aside from a few trips to Europe. Besides, she wanted to be front row for the arrival of Boe Hilton. Suri and Boe grew up together like most elites. Suri and Boe hooked up before - he was actually her first. But now he was a party friend that she missed. A screw up that took the heat off of her especially when she was dealing with her families current state. She really didn't need whiplash from freshman running around the park in jacquard blazers. Her slender figure gazed the running trail watching the dogs, children and soccer moms before her eyes locked on the sight that she truly wanted to see. Austin Roosevelt. Austin made the list of aristocratic misfits. The trouble-squad made up of Suri, Boe, Harvard and Austin. However, what happened to Austin was more frightening then what was happening with her. Austin Roosevelt had been cut off. He was kicked out of the mansion. The cars were taken and the trustfund was seized after a drug bust in the Roosevelt estate. Now he was living in the Plaza and pushing drugs to 'make ends meat'. It was an Upper East Side tragedy and Suri wanted to support her friend. Suri smiled as the dark haired male approached her, her eyes glittered. "Aussie!" Suri used their childhood nickname as she wrapped her long arms around his broad shoulders. He was bulky but he had lost weight recently. Suri didn't know if it was the drugs or the fact that he was 'poor' in their sense. She knew he was too proud to deal to most of their 'peers' and the people in the Upper East that knew of him. Which was everyone.

"You're the only one who still calls me 'Aussie'." Austin chuckled as he watched Suri. "Unless Yale and Giselle are drunk." He added, gesturing for them to walk deeper down the trail, to their usual place.

"You know we go way back." Suri smirked, looking towards him and putting her pockets, letting her shopping bag wave as she walked. "We've been best friends since what .."

"Forever," Austin answered.

"Which is why I think it's about time you came back into the circle." Suri hinted as they walked down the stone path, reaching the bench.

"The circle?" Austin scoffed as he thought about the circle. Even though no one said it, he was definitely out-casted. They stopped inviting him places. No one else talked to him aside from Suri since the summer began and his Gossip Girl tag went dry. He finally got enough money to get himself back into school for the first semester. "I'm not doing that."

"Austin," Suri-Hung sighed, Austin's freckles were clustered around his face and lips. "You can't miss 'Kiss On The Lips'. You've missed every other party and it could be good for you." Suri added.

"Good for me?"

"It's a wild, Upper East Side party." Suri spoke and her point was proven. If Austin put his pride aside, he could make a gold mine. "You can make yourself enough money for the next two years at St. Judes and staying at the Lincoln."

"St. Judes isn't happening, first off." Austin confessed, facing Suri. He could see the confusion on her face. St. Judes was the best all boys school in Manhattan and it was an honor to be a student. Austin might be cut-off but having a Roosevelt in the class was still a good look for them.

"Well if you aren't going to St. Judes then you better be going to Collegiate." Suri demanded. St. Judes was Constance's brother school. The Collegiate School was the brother school for the 4/5. Brearly, Nightingale, Spence and Chapin - Suri's kingdom. It was the only other place suitable to engage a Roosevelt.

"We'll get to see eachother more on campus." Austin pointed out.

"Seriously, you're transferring?"

"Yeoh." Austin started, watching her as her hair blew in the Manhattan wind. "I can't face them. The guys."

"The guys?" Suri challenged. "They aren't fucking saints." The female of Asian descent pointed out. Suri knew what Austin was going through. In times of scandal, she felt more comfortable around the boys than Yale, Marpessa and Giselle. She hadn't reached out to them since her fathers arrest. She still attended the UES parties but she avoided the other DONS. It was easier that she wouldn't have to face them in a month. "I get it." Suri changed her view. "Plus I get to see you more." She added and hugged him slightly.

"Well enough of that." Austin let a light chuckle slip his thin lips when Suri's full lips formed into a grin. "I have a friend I want you to meet."

"Tell me about her."

"She's awesome. Colorful personality." Austin explained. "She has about 2k followers."

"Ah, really?" Suri asked. "She gained a few more."

"More people want Molly." Austin winked. "But you can find her at the Lincoln."

 **I'm sitting pretty on the throne**

 **There's nothing more I want**

Giselle sat uncomfortably in the middle of the blonde toned Victorian sofa of the Hilton home. The window that stood transversely from the pale haired girl showed the entirety of Manhattan while the sunlight rebounded off of her high cheekbones and the 'french vanilla' Kylighter she was wearing. She didn't quite know how to handle things currently. Yale was on her way with macaroons, and Blanca - Giselle's personal 'helper' was making the girls drinks which would normally soothe her nerves. However, she usually didn't have her frantic mother and stern father hovering over other in the most literal sense. Their was a chance that Boe Hilton was back in Manhattan and her parents were in a whirlwind about it. Prince hadn't been heard from for the entire day and Giselle was in the middle of the entire debacle. In the literal sense. Jessica, Giselle's mother, stepped down from her campaign to run for senate in line of her political family, Giselle and Prince agreed that Boe's disappearance controlled the way Jessica spent her time since stepping down. All three children knew what her mothers real plans were going to be after leaving the politic spectrum, however only traveling she had done was based on the 'Where's Will?' games. "Has she added anything to that little blog?" Jessica asked. Giselle had tried explaining to her mother what Gossip Girl was. What the 'blog' meant and the power behind it all in modern Manhattan. However, her mother was featured in gossip blogs and politic slander campaigns since the assassination of her grandfather. Jessica didn't bat an eyelash at GG. She wasn't even entertained by her. "Has anyone seen more pictures of Boe?" The slim woman stood tall. She was wearing a cerulean toned pantsuit with a long line, military style jacket and her honey blonde hair fell messily on her shoulders after the woman took down her hair bun. Prince was like the third Rockefeller twin. It was no surprise that they had plans together. Giselle wouldn't be surprised if the twins lied for her brother but them not knowing anything about where he was rung strangely to her.

"No. I check like ... every four seconds." Giselle spoke. Her eyes wandered over the small spread Blanca had prepared for her parents. The table was covered with uneaten food. Like it was just there for show for their annual family PR photo shoot. Whenever the members of the Hilton dynasty needed some positive media. Since the Trump family took over America, they've been milking the positive in comparison remarks. "Boe's trending again though."

"What does that mean?" Nicholas Hilton, the 'artist' as Yale said, pretended not to be 'hip' enough to keep up with the young kids. He had to be pretending.

"It means," Giselle groaned considering it wasn't the first or second time she had the conversation with her father on the topic. "People all over the world are tweeting and talking about him. It might become easier to find him." Giselle clenched her platinum & diamond Edwardian necklace, contemplating the possibility that searching for her cousin after two years could end today.

"What if this blog is just bored and messing with us?" Jessica pointed out. "You said it was run by some 'lonely boy'."

"No mom, I said-" Giselle cut herself off. "I think this time is different." Giselle changed her tone.

"I have all of our people on this. Our P.I will find him before these ... 'Where's William' and Gossip Girl characters do." Nicholas looked at his phone in disgust before leaving. Jessica followed behind and Giselle sat in silence for a moment before she heard the voice of Pierce Scully, the families butler tell her that Yale had arrived. Giselle stood on her feet and opened her arms wide enough to greet Yale and the Napoleon box. Yale took a good look at Giselle's outfit. The blonde had crystals hanging on her face from her headband, and a grand kimono dress.

"Looks like someone finally finished watching 'Dynasty' on Netflix." Yale smiled. Their styles were so very different. But they were completely different girls. Yale could never pull off Giselle's loose and effortless look because Giselle was naturally effortless. Yale's attempt at 'boho' was the current asymmetric ruffle dress and white boots. It was 'loose' and already made Upper Manhattans best dressed day.

"It's soooo good." Giselle gushed with a light giggle as the girl reclaimed her seat on the couch. "Blanca!" She yelled before turning to Yale. "This morning was so normal." Giselle started. "Even reading Gossip Girl was normal until I actually read Gossip Girl." Yale watched as Blanca rushed to Giselle's side trying to be as quick as the girls needed her to be, without dropping the tray of Bellinis. "Thank gawd you're here." Giselle said dramatically as she took her respective glass, sighing slightly. Giselle had a point. Thank god Blanca provided the drinks. Yale needed the refreshment. Also, her friend was right when she pointed out that the day started relatively normal until Boe's return.

"I just wanna know why he stayed away so long." Yale sipped from her champagne glass. "And why he decided to come back."

"Nothing major happened." Giselle stated. An understatement, really. Boe had missed alot, but Gossip Girl probably kept him up to date on things in the UES.

"He's on time for his birthday." Yale conveyed. "And 'kiss on the lips'."

"Oh yes!" Giselle pretended to be excited. She felt bad hounding Yale about her family drama. She probably got enough of it from Prince. "How's that going?"

"I got the Copacabana!" Yale burst. She didn't want to hear Boe's name right now. Not, ever really ... but she couldn't say that to Giselle's face. Right now she was just more excited than she should've been. "How long do you think it'll take before things are back to normal?" Yale asked. "Or, pre-Boe disappearance?"

"Never."

 _ **Except to be alone.**_


	3. We R'NT WHO WE R

_Gᴏʀɢᴇᴏᴜꜱ ɢɪʀʟꜱ ɪɴ ᴄᴏᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ ɢᴏᴡɴꜱ. Aʟʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ᴛᴇᴇᴛʜ, ꜱʜɪᴍᴍᴇʀɪɴɢ ʜᴀɪʀ, ғᴜʟʟ ʟɪᴘꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ʀᴜɴᴡᴀʏ ϙᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ. Tʜᴇɪʀ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇ. Tʜᴇɪʀ ᴊᴇᴡᴇʟꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʙʟɪɴᴅɪɴɢ. Tʜᴇɪʀ ᴄᴀʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ғᴀꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ғᴜʀɪᴏᴜꜱ. Aɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴇʟɪᴛᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛꜱ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴅᴀᴡɴ. Wʜɪᴛᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ, ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ. Dᴇꜱɪɢɴᴇʀ ꜱʜᴏᴇꜱ, ᴅᴇꜱɪɢɴᴇʀ ᴅʀᴜɢꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʟɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʟᴜxᴇ, ʀᴜᴍᴏʀꜱ, ᴇɴᴠʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘʟᴇɴᴅᴏʀ. Sᴏᴄɪᴀʟɪᴛᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇʙᴜᴛᴀɴᴛᴇꜱ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴄᴏᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀᴜᴛᴇ ᴊᴏᴀɪʟʟᴇʀɪᴇ._

 **TRIGGER WARNING. GRAPHIC VIOLENCE DESCRIPTION.**

* * *

 **ᴅɪsᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ: ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟ ɴᴀᴍᴇs ᴏғ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇs, ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ᴀʙʙʀᴇᴠɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴛ. ɴᴀᴍᴇʟʏ, ᴍᴇ.**

ʜᴇʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ!

 **B WAS SEEN AT JFK**

ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ 'ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ's ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍ' ɢᴀᴍᴇs sᴛᴀʀᴛ, ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀɪɴɢ 'ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍ [ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜɪs ᴛɪᴍᴇ]'? ʏᴏᴜ sᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴇ-ᴍᴀɪʟ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋs sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ. ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ɪᴛ ғᴇᴇʟ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʙᴀᴅ?

* * *

 **Hot and dangerous**  
 **If you're one of us, then roll with us**

Another day, another department store mirror. Currently, it was Bloomingdales on Third and Yale-Rose was trying on - and picking up her Viktor&Rolf dress for 'Kiss on The Lips'. It was a 60s couture-inspired mini dress with petite shoulders and a bejewelled collar of handcrafted 3D plexiglass flowers and crystals. The flowers formed an armoured bodice and cascade down the sculptural a-line volume of the dress. Very Ariana Grande who was Yale's favorite. She planned on doning the singers signature hairstyle with a nod to Twiggy's iconic makeup style. Her mother, Angela Anders-Rockefeller approved. 'Kiss on the Lips' started as a Central Park charity to save a bird that Yale could never remember seeing at the park, but it grew to become a larger than life event ran by fashion designer Blair Waldorf who started it when she was Yale's age. This year they were raising money for the Black-footed ferret, and Yale was determined to throw a Blair-esque party and earn herself an internship at Waldorf Designs. Yale had it _all_ figured out and 'Kiss on the Lips' had been trending up until Boe Hilton's 'return'. She couldn't get away from someone mentioning it.

"You and Prince are the modern JFK and Jackie K." Angela, Yale's mother gushed. Yale having herself a political figure as a beau was a goal for an Upper East Side mother. Though Angela grew up in Hollywood movies and TV, staring in the golden era of pop culture with Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan, Angela left the lifestyle as soon as she heard her blind date at Snctm last name was 'Rockefeller'. She caught her flight at the JFK and never turned back - aside from her trips on Rodeo. Yale posed and grinned at the older version of herself, loving the sound of it all. Angela hadn't grown up in the elite circle. Atleast not high society's version. She wasn't forced to be perfect which is why Yale could relate to her mother and turn to her when she made mistakes unlike the other mothers on Chelsea. "What's wrong?" Angela blinked her blue eyes, examining her daughters facial expression.

"I haven't even spoken to him in days." Yale rubbed her lips together. She couldn't have anyone thinking their was trouble in her aristocratic paradise. Girls and guys were lining up to come between the legacy that Yale-Rose Rockefeller and Prince Hilton were meant to manufacture. Yale had been avoiding Prince at first. And although it was completely on her at first, her boyfriend stopped reaching out. "He's so tied up in this Boe thing." The dark haired girl looked at her ' _tiramisu for two_ ' toned ballerina manicure and thought about what she wanted to actually say out loud. "Gigi thinks Prince already knows where Boe is."

"And you think Prince already knows what _happened between you and Boe_?" Angela whispered the final parts of her sentence. 'What happened' between Yale and Boe was something she never wanted to talk about out loud. It was a moment of weakness that she often thought about despite knowing she shouldn't. At Boe's birthday party pre-disappearance, Prince and Yale had plans on losing their virginity together. The theme was 'Tarantino' where everyone dressed as characters from the iconic directors movies. The couple made their appearance as the parties best version of Vincent Vega and Mia Wallace. Yale wore a sleek, dark banged bob and a Ralph Lauren button-down shirt. Her legs were long and toned and up in the air for 'Mr. Blonde' as 'Misirlou' played in the background. She was drunk, Boe was as charming as usual and it was her very first time. Ofcourse it wasn't supposed to happen. She felt like an idiot becoming just another girl on Boe Hilton's 'Ponied-List' which was the main reason she wasn't excited about his return. That night, Marpessa Monroe walked in on them and had a bitch fit. Boe disappeared and Yale was sure Marpessa liked having something over her head for years now. Naturally, Yale ran to Angela in tears the same night and confided in her. This was the only thing that has ever happened in Yale's life that she didn't tell Gigi. But she could feel the Upper East Side's best kept secret was about to be exposed.

"I feel like there's a reason I haven't talked to him since Boe got back." Yale said sadly. "I don't even know if I have a date to the biggest event of the season."

"Listen to me," Angela demanded. "You're Yale Rockefeller. You aren't defined by being Prince Hilton's girlfriend." Angela spoke smoothly. Her mothers voice was like asmr for Yale. It seriously soothed her.

"Mom, I..." Yale choked back. She loved Prince. She knew their future was amazing and she had a dark cloud over her entire relationship for three years now. Yale spent the majority of her life being inlove with Prince and being best friends with Gigi. She couldn't let everything crumble. "Does Aunt Jessie know where _he_ is yet?" Jessica Hilton was Prince's mother and Angela's best friend. When Angela was only twenty years old, she met Brock Rockefeller and was whisked into his lifestyle. Jessica was apart of that. The Rockefeller/Hilton family history was a long one and before their were couples in the Upper East Side like Blair Waldorf and Nate Archibald, their was actually Brock Rockefeller and Jessica Buckley. They were supposed to be massive but they broke up because Brock had too many scandals linked to his name. Coming back to New York with a tabloid princess didn't make things better, but while everyone expected Jessica and Angela to have drama - Jessica reached out to Angela and tucked her under her wing. She helped polish Angela's image and the rest was history.

"She has her P.I's on it." Angela answered, glancing at her cellphone. Angela Anders was the UES Cinderella story. After Angela's big move to Manhattan she enrolled and graduated from **NYSID**. Her new last name scored her a job as the 'home and accessories' interior design specialist of Tiffany & Co. Yale listened slightly distracting herself with the thought of her night with Boe being exposed. "They fucking suck." Angela grinned, giggling slightly. Angela pretended to be 'high-tea' with everyone except Yale and Brock.

"Mom if he ruins 'Kiss' and everything else I've built since that night ..." Yale posed in the mirror, "We have to get ahead of this." Yale demanded. Her life was perfect. Her image was perfect and she didn't waste her time under Marpessa Monroe's thumb for nothing. "I need shoes." Yale tilted her toes in her classic pointe stance before standing up straight to see how her legs looked in the large dress. "Platforms." She added simply.

"What's Gigi wearing?"

"A pink Viktor&Rolf dress." Yale answered. Usually the girls consulted with eachother. They always wore the same designer- and the same collection to major events to show their strong front. The girls were constantly put against eachother since starting the ninth grade. Their were fan pages and Gossip Girl polls dedicated to the fact that Gigi Hilton should be the Constance Queen over Yale. Gigi had a different type of 'it' factor. She was rebellious, cool without trying and very suave. Yale couldn't relate. There was a structure she had that made her better equipt to be the Don. Yale loved Gigi, but the blonde would have the heiressosy in shambles if she lead it.

"You girls are adorable when you do that." Angela smiled, approvingly. Yale didn't aim to be 'adorable' and Gigi's natural ora was 'sex'. Their was nothing adorable about the two girls. They weren't apart of the 'Mickey Mouse Club'. They were Britany, post 'Opps,' and everyone in the Upper East Side knew that. Yale slipped out of the dress daintily, hanging it on the dressing-room handle and sliding into her original outfit. A blue denim colored, florari coat by Johanna Ortiz - yes, Gigi had the moss green version and she had better be wearing it today, with a Detail Mini Dress by David Koma, and Saint Laurent Tribute Patent sandal. Wine colored, to compliment the floral details in her jacket. Yale's dark hair fell into her face as she grabbed her Prada purse and the dress. No final adjustments needed. The dress was perfect for her. Now, she just needed everything else in her life to be _perfect._

 **'Cause we make the hipsters fall in love**  
 **When we've got our hot-pants on and up.**

"So I have to _settle_ for not having a date to 'Kiss'?" Marpessa Monroe whisper shouted into her iPhone X as she stood in the in the kitchen of her Dakota apartment she shared with her parents. The girls smooth face stayed still as she tried not to let her emotions reign through her telephone voice. Vocal cracks were never cute. Though, at times Marpessa couldn't help herself. It seemed that in the Upper East Side, elites weren't allowed to be human. She learned that when she first moved from Marlyville-Fontainebleau. There, they didn't have Instagram stalkers and a blog dedicated to airing the dirty laundry of seventeen year old socialites. She was a god damn public figure, she didn't need to be dealing with Gossip Girl. Like everyone else, she hated to admit that she liked the attention. Marpessa crept the comment section of her tagged Gossip Girl page and listened to what the people wanted. Someone said they wished she wore more natural hairstyles, instead of her normal sleek straight mane - so she did, and everyone seemed to love the faux-locs of summer '17. She was becoming an Upper East Side icon. She knew there were girls that looked like her, who liked to live through her and imagine themselves in her lifestyle. She had to _represent._ Marpessa tucked her straight hair neatly behind her ear and shook her head at the response she received from the other end of her phone call before feeling her phone be whisked from her hands.

"You're done." Marpessa heard a thick, french accent fill the room before seeing her mothers face. Lilly-Marie, voodoo queen, was the most striking and intimidating woman to grace the Upper East Side. Her reputation proceeded her as the older bitches-woman, of the elite circle ran to her with their tails between their legs looking for her to throw them a bone. Or better yet, answers on rather or not their husband is sleeping with the maid or his sexy secretary - or the pool boy. Lilly would give them the answers and retaliation methods they needed and they'd send her a gift basket filled with a couple thousand dollars and the fruits of her labor. Lilly had more dirt on every family in the circle which meant that Marpessa did as well. Before Marpessa could speak, she was cut off by her mother once again. "It's 2018, you do not need a boys companionship to dictate rather or not you'll have fun at a party. Especially not _that_ boy."

"You don't even-" Marpessa contested.

"I know." Lilly-Marie interrupted with a calmness that wasn't usually in her nature. She felt as if she couldn't open her mouth momentarily. Not because of her mothers coercion. But, because she physically felt like she couldn't open her mouth for a split second. "Cat got your tongue?" Lilly-Marie grinned deviously as she walked through apartment 46. When Marpessa learned the family was staying in the Dakota, she had her eyes set on Leonard Bernstein's former apartment. However, they were beat to the punch by Jessica Chastain. Marpessa didn't buy for a second that her family lost an apartment at the Dakota to a D-list actress but after seeing the Addams family style home - she figured out that her mother convinced her father to drop $14.5 million on an apartment because of it's 'energy'. Marpessa took a long gulp and scanned the room before finally deciding to speak, changing the subject ofcourse.

"The dress daddy got me to wear is gorgeous." She grinned excitedly. Every one of her peers was a 'daddy's girl'. But they didn't have a father like hers. New York Fashion Week royalty, Bastian Monroe. Yale's father kept up the Rockefeller legacy, Gigi's father pretended to care about the Hilton legacy, and Suri's father was now a criminal. Marpessa's father made pretty dresses and where they resided, his trait was the most valuable. Marpessa's full lips curved into a smirk as she thought about the upper hand she had over the Upper East Side girls before noticing her mother was still glaring at her.

"Well you're a gorgeous girl." Lily-Marie said 'matter-of-factly'. Lily-Marie had a demeanor that made people want to jump through hoops for her and Marpessa wasn't any exception. She was the only woman that could make Marpessa squirm. So any compliment she got from her mother gave her butterflies. "You are." Marpessa spoke as if she demanded that Marpessa believed her words. Marpessa never had a self-esteem issue. Not even when she was dropped on her Gucci's into the dog-eat-dog world of Manhattan's elite. She second guessed herself once or twice, sure, but she handled all of her shit like a boss.

"I know." Marpessa let out a light giggle. "I'm _your_ daughter."

"My daughter who doesn't need any chaperone at any event."

"Not even to hold my purse?" She teased.

"Duh-ling, if I know the man I married, then he bought you that McQueen you've been eyeing," _True._ "You can hold all $1,795 worth of purse on your own. Don't call that degenerate back." Lily watched her daughter as if she had the mettle to object her. Sure, they both knew that Marpessa would do what she wanted and Lily would still be waiting with open arms and tickets to the ballet to calm her _if_ she ended up getting hurt. But the question was rather or not Marpessa would disobey her mother to her face.

"Gossip Girl is going to catch my dress, my hair and my ass in every angle so I'm going to give that bastard a show." Marpessa beamed confidently, holding her head high. There were positives and negatives to living in Gossip Girls world. You know, when you look super hot and no one sees your outfit? That phenomenon doesn't happen under Gossip Girls heir. Marpessa could get the attention of any guy she wanted and look 'unbothered' while doing it. She'd be the next cover story and he'd wish that he was in the picture with her.

 **And yes of course we does, we running this town just like a club**

Prince Hilton watched the smoke from his marijuana blunt fly through his 'o' shaped mouth and up to the high vaulted ceiling of the main room in the Rockefeller's Lincoln Plaza. No- not Yale's parents, but her cousins the Roosevelt twins. Yale's family live in a luxury, Beaux-Arts mansion on 62nd with designer leather walls. It the home of an architectural manager and an interior designer which meant it was on about every real-estate magazine in Manhattan. It made the news on several occasions but Prince prefered the guys stayed. It was normal. As normal as luxury in Manhattan could get. But, Brock Rockefeller was outnumbered in his house, Brett Rockefeller had the upper hand. Their home at LP looked like a lush, European man cave. Prince could hear the brothers bickering from behind him, as always, but he was completely checked out. Prince was known as being the perfect, easy going guy of the Upper East. He was definitely the poster child for what everyone wanted their high society daughter to marry into and he had Yale Rockefeller. A girl who his family wanted him to marry into, that was also hot enough to brag about to his friends, _that weren't her family._ Prince heard stories about elites who stayed in loveless relationships for years because of images and status' and Prince thought it was ridiculous. However, Prince thought most of the inner workings of the Upper East Side were ... ridiculous. Everyone knew Prince basked in the glories and glamour of being high on the list of Manhattan's society. He attended all the parties and showed off his expensive cars, lavish jewelry but shit, he felt bad for it sometimes. Sometimes he had to step back and take a moment to himself. At times, the blonde got physically sick and needed to check out and this past week was a fest full of it. He barely spoke to anyone since the news of his brothers return. He loved Boe but he also hated him, in a brotherly way. Come on, he grew up side by side with him. He's had basically seen the guy bat a lash, run his fingers through his hair and get away with murder. He felt like an asshole even thinking things like 'just because his parents died a million years ago, doesn't mean we still have to kiss his ass.' Or wanting to shake his mother and tell her that 'he barely knew them. He isn't heartbroken that they're gone he'd just rather not have to own up to being a dick.' Along with the latest, wishing Boe hadn't even showed back up at all. It felt like people actually forgot about him. "At this point, I really don't think it fucking matters." He heard one of the twins talking. He didn't know what they were referring to but he shot up from their navy couch. Whatever they were saying, he agreed. Shit, Boe was back and he'd have to deal with things going back to how they were before. Only x10 since Boe probably had a few new 'get out of jail free' cards.

"We're gonna miss the red carpet." Duke, the older twin, sighed as he straightens his tie. Even though Duke was Prince's best friend, he fed into everything that Prince loathed about the society. He believed that he needed to keep up appearances and be seen in photographs to keep his family's name in tact. He did everything in life abiding by the Rockefeller legacy. It had always been like that, but since the fall of Austin Roosevelt, Duke was in overdrive.

"That's chick shit anyway." Harvard scoffed. The girls cared more about the red carpets than the guys. They only ever showed up when a girl wanted them to. When they were younger, the 'girl' was usually their mother - or grandmother, while now it would be their elite girlfriends. Neither of the twins had girlfriends so they didn't get it. However, since Prince had ghosted Yale for the past week he knew he had to make that red carpet. It was _her_ event. 'Kiss on the lips' was a big deal. Most of the higher end events happened in the fall/winter seasons. The spring had a few good ones but the summer time was scarce since everyone usually left the island. 'Kiss on the lips' was a reason to return to Manhattan for everyone and Yale talked about it since the first one they had been to in the ninth grade hosted by Nell Diamond at La Sirena. Nell had been Yale's idol even before she got a whisk of the icon that was Blair Waldorf-Bass. And along with BWB, Nell actually RSVP'd. This was a big night for Yale and he couldn't let his personal issues distract her.

"Fuck."

"What?"

"Yale." Prince quickly stampered to put out his light before stumbling around for the rest of his clothing. The guys had been smoking, and procrastinating since noon and he was still barely decent. He smelled of marijuana which would drive Yale even madder considering that she hates that he smokes. HE dusted himself of weed crumbs and straightened the pleated on his Emporio Armani suit pants. The male drowned himself in Cartier Déclaration d'Un Soir Eau de Toilette. Once before, and once after sliding into his royal blue turtleneck. "I gotta fucking go." He stated, grabbing his wallet and practically bolting out of the door. He got in his moods at time. He shut himself down and Yale knew all about it. She had to know that's what was going on. Maybe that's why she wasn't reaching out to him? She probably figured he needed his space, as usual and would be back around like he was now. Right? Why else wouldn't he have contact with his girlfriend all week?

 **And no, you don't wanna mess with us**

Austin Roosevelt hesitantly drove up to Floyd Bennett Field, and abandoned air-field in Brooklyn which had apparently now been turned into a mafia clubhouse. The Gambino crime family was known in the country for being the ruthless. Its illicit activities include labor and construction racketeering, gambling, loansharking, extortion, money laundering, prostitution, fraud, hijacking, pier thefts, and fencing. And now, all-American Austin Roosevelt was apart of it all. He had thought his brother hood was found by birthright in his ex-friends, Prince Hilton and the Rockefeller twins however it was proven to him that it wasn't the case. The guys had done all sorts of wild things together and gotten into all sorts of scandalized activity but when the news his that Roosevelt was cut-off, they did the same to him as his parents. Now they pretended as if he didn't exist. It wasn't like the new brother hood he found in the Gambino family. He knew what built the reputation of a mafia family. And even of it wasn't noble, he didn't care. They took care of him and kept his life afloat this past year. He was gifted a Lamborghini Huracan just because and he knew from the movies that loyalty with them was above everything. Austin had been responsible for pick-ups, deliveries and distribution. The guys seemed to consider it the 'bitch' job, but it was the only thing he knew he could handle. He only dealt with the glamorous half of being apart of the Gambino family. He saw the perks they received from their end of the spectrum, the lavish Italian dinners, parties, restaurants, and exactly how fucked up the people in _his_ neck of the woods really were. How many perfect Manhattan husbands were actually junkies, how many politicians were dirty, and how much Upper East Side woman really liked 'bad-boys'. His 'secret' life saw into the secret lives of Manhattan's elite. Sure, the Gambino family had enough money to burn when it got cold out. He knew they made $10 million a week in revenue. They could buy the entire Upper East Side, and the people of the society actually looked down on them for a reason. Which was why the UES was considered Austin's territory. Sure, they lived the same elite life as the rest of the higher-ups in the city, they just had different means of it all. And the guys acted like if they stepped foot on the UES they'd burst into designer monogrammed flames. The two worlds were more similar than they'd think and Austin loved it. He knew he was damn good at it. Austin stepped out of his chartreuse colored car and straightened the color of his crisp white, Burberry shirt. The male had just finished a drop off and was ready for another pickup. This time last year he'd be getting high, drunk and dressed with the guys for the 'Kiss on the lips' event. It was an annual elite fundraiser that had been going on for the past ten years. This one was the eleventh and hosted by another former friend of his, Yale Rockefeller. She was the princess of all things Upper East Side. Every girl wanted to be her and every guy - even him, wanted to be with her. She was spoken for, unfortunately, and had been dating Prince since they could walk. Until recently, Austin thought Prince was one of the good guys and thought it was best if she was happy. However, since he came into a brand new attitude and sense of boldness, he decided that he deserved a girl like Yale for himself. As Austin looked up at the Gambino crime-house, he sighed to himself and took a deep breath preparing himself for the negative part of his family. It wasn't keeping up appearances and dealing with Gossip Girl posts, it was far worst. And more graphic. It felt like a movie when he walked up to the building. The outside looked the same as the pictures posted on the internet but no one cared enough to check the inside since the property had been paid for in cash a few years ago. The windows were boarded and as he walked closer, he could hear an Italian song playing from the headquarters. He had no idea what it was, (Anna German's version of La piu bella del mondo), but it sounded beautiful. So beautiful that it almost covered the crashes and cries of violence he heard as he walked through the steel door. Past the cocaine cooking and assembly line, and through the cigar smoke, Austin saw first hand what happened when you went against the mafia. He saw three of the Gambino 'brothers' standing around another man sitting in the chair. He knew them as 'Italian Dom' and 'Tommy Boy' but they were Dominic Cefalù II and Thomas Bilotti. They were in their early 20s while the victim looked old enough to be their grandfather. Tommy swung a bat and Dom swung a gun, both laughing like hyenas every time the older man whimpered. Austin couldn't tell for sure, but he could swear the older man covered with a blindfold, or a bloody piece of fabric cut messily from his destroyed shirt, was the owner of a pizza joint he knew the family worked through. Austin gulped and took a step back before he met the sea green eyes of the mafia's leader, Lorenzo Cali. Enzo was the same age as Austin. The same exact age considering he googled him and found out they had the same birthday. Lorenzo was also born into the mafia lifestyle and the 'big' boss was his father, Frank Cali who worked under the legend that was John Gotti. He had guys twice his age that respected him and wouldn't dare look at him funny. Austin heard the stories of the guys talking about crime from as young as the age of eight years old. At that time, Austin didn't even know this world existed. Frank Cali committed a mass murder and only served 10 months in prison. These guys knew they were untouchable. Lorenzo had a machete in one hand, and a Cuban cigar in the other. His mafia name was 'Mad Dog' but everytime Austin saw him, he had a crest white smile. Honestly, Enzo looked like he belonged in the society circle. He was tall, well built, had a natural Italian tan and was always well dressed. All of the guys were designer brands that Austin was accustomed to spotting a mile away, but Lorenzo always looked like a business man. He wore suits on a daily basis and now Austin recognized the teal printed suit pants that 'Mad Dog' was wearing as Burberry, he had almost gotten them himself. Lorenzo grinned as he let out cigar smoke and every guy tensed up as he turned to face Austin. "Why don't you just stand over there, while I handle something." He smirked as he walked over to the 'victim'. Enzo's face looked carved. He had a signature, strong jawline. Maybe that's why he _always_ carried a machete. That and to carve the Janus buff that sat on his 'office' desk that seemed to depict his personality. Austin saw him as just a regular guy. From what he could gather since joining the family, he knew Enzo liked art, and music. He collected classic cars - and guns. He was over-protective of his younger sister, adored his mother (even cooked for her every night) and looked up to his father. Enzo was clearly following his families business. He sounded like every guy on the Upper East Side that Austin had known. But, Austin also noticed that Enzo told jokes with a straight face and everyone waited on his chuckle for permission to laugh. Austin did as Enzo said, and stepped to the side as he watched Enzo's facial expression completely change. He gave Dom a nod, and Dominic removed the blindfold from the male's face. When the darkness turned to light, and the older gentleman was eye to eye with Enzo, it looked like he had seen a ghost. Austin saw that it _was_ the older gentleman he had met at the beginning of summer. He owned a Brooklyn based pizza shop. The guys had been there more than five times during the summer. They smoked and laughed and admitted to him that the pizza joint had been a hangout spot for them when they were younger. Sort of like how Austin, Prince, the twins, Boe, Gigi and _Yale_ , spent their childhood at the Sugar Factory. The older man had pictures of the younger men as children posted around his establishment like a proud father.

" _Tony_." Lorenzo groaned. The males tone gave Austin flashbacks of when he embarrassed and disappointed his family one too many times, resulting in the 'cut-off' conversation. "I thought we were family." His green eyes shimmered though the lights over the operation. Everyone who wasn't immediately involved continued as if it weren't a sight to see. The Italian song went off, and the next song playing was one he recognized as Marilyn Manson's 'Sweet Dreams'. His tone was calm until Enzo cocked his head to the side. "Say something," Enzo suggested but everyone could tell it was more of a demand. The older man began to stutter. And cry. "You had so much to say the other day. Remember those officers?" Suddenly things became clearer. "You," Lorenzo explained, waving the machete towards the man. "informed them. And then 'they'," Enzo then, pointed the knife away from the both of them at no one in particular. "Informed me. And now here we all are. One big happy family." He flashed the Colgate smile deviously. "SAY SOMETHING!" He yelled before Tommy lifted the bat and administered one swift blow to the man's head. It made a BOOM, then a nauseating gush sound caught Austin's attention. He couldn't look, but he also couldn't look away. He hoped that Dominic wouldn't use the gun he was holding, and he didn't. Instead he put it in his pants, hopefully the safety was on, and used the both of his hands to jult the mans chair so that the front half hovered like at a dental office. Tommy dropped his bat and moved to the other side of the chair holding it while Lorenzo walked around, standing over the mans head. The cigar that was now behind Enzo's ear didn't move no matter how many times he tilted his head. The man shook in terror as Enzo rose his knife. Austin was sure he'd slit his throat but instead the sharp end of the knife grazed the corners of the mans mouth and sawed at his cheek. Blood gushed and splattered though none of the guys seemed phased. Lorenzo performed new 'cosmetic' surgery on the other side of the mans face - clearing all suspicion Austin had that Lorenzo was a batman fan. He was Bruce Wayne, Harvey Kent and the Joker mixed together like Italian ribollita. Blood streamed down the mans face though he was amazingly still alive. "Still nothing to say?" Enzo chuckled. "Dog got your tongue?" The next move of the machete was more from a horror movie. He actually cut out the mans tongue, tossed it like a bad habit and wiped the victims blood off of his hands on the mans shirt. "Your turn, D." Enzo instructed and with abrupt movement, Dominic's gun was in his hands while his bullet was blowing the mans brain out. "You know," Lorenzo casually turned to face Austin while Austin straightened his posture and tried not to look as afraid as he was. Dogs sensed fear. "That party you're doing, my kid sister is going to be there. I think I'll come too." It was scary that Lorenzo could be so hot and cold. His smile was back again and he adjusted the collar of his white, bloodied shirt to reveal his gold chain. The pendant looked like Versace though Austin realized it was Christ himself.

"Oh, okay." Austin cleared his throat. It felt like his mom was telling her she'd also be at a social event that he was planning on getting wild with his friends at. He couldn't make a false move. That got him here the first time around.

"Don't think I can fit in?" The Gambino family, was notorious in New York and infamous. Everyone knew the name but no one in the Upper East Side knew how the mob worked. Everyone in the Gambino family didn't have the last name Gambino. It was an organization. One that they wouldn't expect to see a seventeen year old male with shiny hair, straight teeth and a teal Burberry suit. He'd fit in.

"Yeah." Austin corrected, clearing his through. "Yeah." He added again nervously. "But, uhm." He gestured to the blood on Enzo's shirt while Enzo removed the cigar from behind his ear and lit it casually.

Lorenzo looked down to his shirt and shrugged it off. "I have a jacket."

 **Got Jesus on my necklace -**

 **I've got that glitter on my eyes**

Abigail Walton stared through the window of her families home. This, definitely wasn't was a mansion on fifth avenue. Something she wasn't exactly equipt to handle. She was no stranger to ball rooms and pretty dresses, she _is_ an Arkansas heiress and apart of the Scottish royal family, but this was Manhattan. This was what they wrote novels and tv shows about. This was the life Carrie Bradshaw lived. The blonde haired beauty lived in her bubble. However, she knew about the New York socialites and scandals. Who didn't _know_ Paris Hiltons era? That made her the most nervous about her move to the big city. She couldn't keep up. Not that she wanted to, but she felt like she'd have the worst time trying to make friends. Her blue eyes turned to the mirror and rested on the Tiffany, rose gold bracelet her mother had gifted her. She had no idea what the event was, all her mother explained was that a woman she met in Bloomingdales invited her after they spoke and bonded over handbags. The sales woman recognized her mother Madeleine, as the duchess of Hälsingland and Gästrikland. It had been a conversation starter where she told the woman she was new to New York and the woman told her about a fundraiser that her seventeen year old daughter was hosting. Madeleine mentioned Abigail and now they had something to do for the night. All Abigail hoped was to make a friend before the school year started. That was plausible enough, right? Abigail's parents hadn't even picked out her school and the semester only started a few weeks from now. She hadn't gotten any new clothes, the girl hadn't even unpacked before her mother brought the party to her attention. Arkansas wasn't Manhattan. The sentiment kept playing in the girls blonde hair and now she was already second guessing herself and her Marchesa notte layered floral dress. The brand itself was so controversial, Madeleine hadn't wanted Abby to wear the dress for months until today. Maybe controversy wasn't looked down upon either in the city. "Abba!" Abba has been Abigail's nickname since she was a child, she had been told she was a magical princess. She heard Madeleine calling from the homes foyer. Madeleine was the most beautiful woman Abigail had ever seen. Many little girls thought the same about their mothers, but it was the truth. Abigail had been dubbed the spitting image of the duchess and it was somewhat true to her. They had long blonde hair, doll-like blue eyes and buttery skin. However, the duchess was tall and curvy. Abigail was 'tall-ish' for a sixteen year old and she was growing into a womanly figure according to her grandmother, the Queen of Sweden. When Abigail emerged from her bedroom she saw her mother smiling brightly at her which made her feel butterflies. Maybe she was nervous for no reason. She was usually good with new people. She was constantly making new friends and maybe the New York socialites were misunderstood.

"I wasn't sure about the bag ..." Abigail confessed, toying with the silver chain on her lime colored leather Valentino 'Glam Rock' bag. The small purse complimented the leaves in the floral detailing in her dress, though Abba still wasn't sure. "But the shoes are rose gold." The nervous blonde lifted the ruffles on her dress to reveal her size six foot, and her Massimo Matteo sandals. The heels were more of a metallic pink than a rose gold, but the idea of mixing metals gave her anxiety.

"You look gorgeous." Madeline assured her daughter. "You always do." Madeline winked as she turned on her nude 'So Kate's' and made her way back down the staircase and to Abigail's father Steuart Walton, who was waiting on the both of them. Her father had been a small town buisness lawyer who was offered a job with the Rockefeller family. They requested Steuart by name. On the surface, Steuart had nothing in common with the big shots that were the Rockefeller brothers, but he was also born into a billion-dollar family. The Walton's of 'Walmart'. He was 'new' money but still an American heir. They said they wanted someone on their team that understood their upbringing and no one really said no to a move to 'Manhattan'. Now Abigail was whisked into a new world. Abigail wrapped her arms around her father and smiled to herself as they exited their home. Her parents could be so busy but they always made time. She mentioned being nervous about the city and her mother found a way to help her meet new friends. Her father took the night off to be by her side. Her life, was perfect.

 **Stockings ripped all up the side  
**

Yale's current favorite song, 'Sade in the 90s' blasted through the speakers of the Copacabana and _everyone_ seemed to be enjoying themselves. The reporters were buzzing at the red carpet and the target fundraising budget was almost met. Now the brunette was being bombarded with praises and compliments - nawt that there was anything to complain about, but her mind was somewhere else. Actually, her 'mind' was left outside of the nightclub where the red carpet was, still waiting on an explanation on where her boyfriend Prince Hilton was spending his and Prince hadn't spoken in days. She distracted herself with final decisions, table clothes, centerpieces and designer shoes for the nights event but 'Kiss on the Lips' had arrived and because of Prince she almost looked like Drew Barrymore in the movie 'Never Been Kissed' aka _a loser._ Thankfully Gigi, Yale's best friend and Prince's sister had nailed the 'too cool to care' attitude and never showed up with a date. Gigi always thought it was better to keep her options open until the end of the night so Vanity Fair and Vogue got some cute bestie shots without any questions. However, Gossip Girl had plenty along with a headline saying, ' **Welcome to Splitzville, population: 2?'** along with Q & As with everyone else wondering the same thing, where Prince was and why he wasn't next to Yale. Boyfriends couldn't be missing at events. Especially not those hosted by their girlfriend. Yale actually held on to hope that her relationship with Prince was still solid. Now she had no idea. Yale blinked her hazel eyes and hummed along to her favorite song, tuning out her older cousin Ariana who was going on and on about her new fashion website. The only 'Ariana' that Yale wanted fashion advice from was Grande and the only person she wanted to talk to was - walking towards her with a bouquet of roses. "Prince." Yale said in a cold tone even though she was happy someone was saving her from her cousins long winded conversation.

"Yale." Prince cracked a smile even though he knew he was in deep. Sure, he was safe from Yale's true wrath because they were standing in the middle of _her_ elite event, but whatever Yale had in store for him, he knew he deserved. He went on an emotional bender and he knew how Yale felt when he didn't let her in on what he had going on. Prince tilted his head towards Ariana and gave her his million dollar crest white grin. "Ariana,"

"Prince," The name game came to an end, though Ariana seemed genuinely happy to see Prince. Mostly because she probably was thinking what everyone else had been, and didn't want her younger cousin missing out on an elite style romance. "We missed you on the carpet." Ariana stated as more of a question. Meaning, she wanted to know why he hadn't been seen posing with her cousin on the red carpet entering her event. For god sakes, it was for charity.

"I know." Prince pouted. Damn, he was so good looking." He let out a slight sigh and bit his lip before speaking. "I went to go get an arrangement I ordered for Yale," He started his sentiment, gesturing to the roses he was holding in his hands. The entire bouquet was very beautiful, however Yale knew that Prince had 'Starbright' generated a gorgeous arrangement in her honor. It was romantic in a way, however they just pushed out the same arrangement every time so the gesture was lost. "They got it wrong and I needed it to be perfect for _my girl._ " Yale knew Prince was full of shit. But Ariana didn't. Yale's older cousin was swooning and clearly impressed by her beau. Yale was just thankful that Prince still cared about keeping up appearances.

"Awe!" Yale exclaimed excitedly. She gushed and wrapped her arms around her boyfriend, whispering in his ear. " _We need to talk_."

"You're seriously the sweetest." Ariana gushed. "I'll leave you two alone. Don't forget what I said, Rocky." Ariana winked though Yale was never actually listening to her cousin. It sucked honestly but Yale's night leading up to now was empty conversations to look like the life of the party. Ariana, Yale's cousin was listed as one of the top socialites in NY. She was a Rockefeller after all, however she was also very boring. Rocky smirked at her cousin and nodded before turning to Prince.

"I could fucking kill you right now." She said through her teeth, pulling him by his wrist and leading him through the party. She faked smiles and waved, sliding her hand down his wrist until their fingers were interlocked, once they caught enough attention and before they were alone. Once they were in a private area off the rooftop venue, Yale let out a groan.

"I know I fucked up." Prince quickly pleaded. "You have every right to be pissed."

"I know I do!" Yale nearly snapped, glaring into her boyfriends gorgeous eyes. She almost melted. Finally seeing him face to face made her realize how much she had missed him. But they shouldn't be missing eachother. They had literally been in the same longitude and latitude, he shouldn't have went off grid with no warning. "How-" her little but dominant voice was already beginning to crack. "How could you do this to me?!" Yale stomped her Dolce & Gabbanna platforms on the floor and Prince gulped.

"It wasn't about you..." Prince said softly, running his fingers through his blonde hair. He dropped his arms with a heavy puff he knew he was wrong but he already felt defeated. Prince couldn't help his emotions and he couldn't help that his first thought was to run and hide and not to call her.

"It should be!" Yale said furiously. "We're supposed to deal with things together. Why do I have to keep telling you this?!" In times like these - in arguments like these, Yale always seemed like the selfish one. Dialog made her seem like she wanted his world to revolve around her when in reality she just wanted to be apart of _his world._ "Why is it so hard to let me in?" She asked. Is this what he wanted? Was she even welcomed into his world. "What happened to you anyway? Is it Boe?" She asked. Honestly, she had been avoiding the topic but she'd rather get through it if it meant fixing issues with Prince. Her boyfriend groaned slightly at her question. He seemed uncomfortable about the topic but she wouldn't let him get away with it.

"Rocky..." Prince pouted. He reached his arms around her small waist and blinked, looking into his girlfriends hazel eyes. Boe Hilton was all everyone could talk about since Prince was a child and now he was letting it consume him to the point of it ruining things for him and Yale. "I love you." Was all he said in a low tone. "I do wanna talk but this is your time and your fundraiser." Prince spoke. Yale never loved anything as much as she loved Prince Hilton. She could feel it in her bones and she could literally see her future in his eyes. It could be Yale-Rose's teenage angst but when things were less than perfect with Prince she felt like she was dying. Holding up appearances was hard as hell.

"I love you too." Her voice cracked slightly before she cleared her throat and looked around the room. "Can we talk ... later?" She asked, tucking an imaginary strand of hair behind her ear. It was her night. 'Kiss on the Lips' was going to raise a ton of money for ... a cute little animal that Yale found on google. Point is, she didn't want it to revolve around her relationship with Prince ... mostly because it wasn't perfect at the moment.

"Ofcourse." Prince nodded. "I just," Prince shook his head. "It's not you Yale. It really isn't." He spoke and Yale's eyes went wide. _What the hell does that mean?_ Before Yale could say anything, she could feel another presence around the young couple and took in the scent of **Chanel No. 5** \- Blair Waldorf's signature scent. Personally, Yale-Rose thought the scent was officially cliche, and gravitated towards Tocca Stella. Still, she knew exactly who coined the scent in the social scene and the Margaret of Burgundy, of the Manhattan social scene was. Blair Waldorf was standing right infront of her with a grin on her face. Yale stood up straight and tried keeping her composure. She wanted her one on one time with Blair. It was what she most looked forward to during the planning of KOTL. Yale thought if she did well planning the party and succeeding the icon, she'd earn herself a spot as Blair Waldorf-Bass' intern, assistant, mentee ... best friend. Who knows.

"Yale!" Blair smiled and Yale happily embraced her for the quick hugs and cheek kisses.

"Blair." Yale smiled slightly and glanced at Blair W.B.'s outfit. It was an all black, sleek and sophisticated Prabal Gurung pants suit. Black was the color of the upcoming fall season. Atleast it was until anyone was bold enough to start wearing the Top 10 Pantone fall/winter colors to a major society event. "This is my boyfriend, Prince." Yale smiled up at the blonde. She could feel his hand squeeze her shoulder which gave her butterflies. They were having issues but she knew Prince loved her. He had her back and most importantly, he'd never let anyone know what was really going on between them.

"Hilton." Blair smiled knowingly. Prince _was_ after all, the poster child. Prince and Yale are what Blair and mayor Nate Archibald could've been since everyone knew they dated way before she got with her now husband Chuck Bass.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Bass." Prince's perfect teeth shimmered in the dim lighting.

"Mrs. Waldorf-Bass." Blair corrected with a playful grin. "Remember that for future references." Blair winked slightly.

"I don't think there's enough patience and thread in the world to embroider 'Y. Rockefeller-Hilton' on my silk robes." Yale giggled. She liked that Blair used her maiden name as well as her husbands last name. It showed that Blair and Chuck were a power couple. They both made their own names for one another. Blair was known for doing a list of things and being Chuck Bass' wife was more of an extra charm on her Pandora bracelet of life. And vice versa. Yale wanted what they had. A name for herself outside of her relationship with Prince. They both had big dreams and the tools to achieve them. White picket fence and all.

"But it has a nice ring to it." Prince smiled and kissed her cheek.

"Ring? That's more like a full on symphony." Yale smirked with a light giggle.

"You two are so adorable." Blair bat her eyelashes. It was a move that Yale noticed Nell do when she was younger, maybe Nell got it from Blair? "Anyways, Nelly just got here so I figured we could both help plan your signature senior year." Blair smirked. Yes! This was definitely the sorority that Yale needed to be apart of. From the generic email Blair sent Yale with information on running 'Kiss' she explained that it started as just a notch on her application to Yale and now she passes the event down to every chosen 'Queen of Constance' as the first official notch on their college applications. When Yale was first cited as queen at the beginning of summer it opened her up to alot. Blair Waldorf started a sisterhood for the upcoming elite girls. And she kept up with it even past her graduation from Constance. She wondered if the other queens were apart of such an organization but Yale felt honored. Her mentors were her idols and society legends. She was about to be a society legend.

 **Tonight we're going hard**

Harvard Rockefeller held a champagne flute in one hand and his iPhone X in the other. It was a party and even though he just got there, he already needed his usual party favors. As usual the society parties started out with the parents showing off their children liked prized dogs in pageants and eventually they ran out of things to talk about they went back to their estates until the next social event to do it all again. Brett and Eden Rockefeller, Harvard's parents, were the rare forms that actually bragged about their own accomplishments. Eden was one of the few mothers in Manhattan that had an actual job and every other mother could go on and on with questions about her career in plastic surgery. Which made things better for Harvard since he could go under the radar and do his own thing at events like this. The taste of champagne was starting to feel like old ginger ale and he needed more. Harvey's hazel brown eyes scanned the room until they rested on the bar and a long haired bartender. Even though he was under aged, most bartenders and establishments turned a blind eye, however the night was as young as he was and the parents were still around. Which meant that Harvard had to resort to his own methods to get what he wanted. All the young, hot girls in Manhattan knew how to get what they wanted and lucky for him when his older cousins baby sat him they let him in on all the valuable information he needed and he's a pro. This wasn't his eighth grade teacher and a good enough grade in English to get into high school - yes it worked, and it also made him a legend. His grandparents lawyers got rid of _that_ scandal but all of his friends know. Now he was at the marble bar gazing at the different bottles of liquor. His eyes dropped past the bartenders long ponytail and down to a perfect ass. "What do I have to do for a double of Prince and Coke?" Harvard called out. His tone was playful but he wasn't leaving until he got what he wanted. Anything.

"You can flash your I.D. and pay your money like everyone else." Harvard heard a deeper than normal yet feminine voice speak which made Harvard uncomfortable for a second.

"Oh, uhm," Harvard cleared his throat and laughed slightly rubbing his lips together and nodding. "So can I get a jack and coke, man?" Harvard looked at the male bartender and sat up straight.

"Are you flashing your masculinity around so that I don't flirt with you?"

"Are you trying to flirt with me?" Harvard asked, raising his eyebrow at the male who's name was apparently 'José' according to his name tag. José wasn't a bad looking guy, but he was still a guy and that was a deal breaker for Harvard Rockefeller. He does't roll like that.

"Prince and coke." José responded, rolling his eyes with a scoff.

"I just don't fuck guys, you know?" Harvard spoke with a light grin.

"I don't know." José said. "Because you know, I actually do fuck guys."

"What?"

"Really good, might I add." José chuckled and winked. Harvard couldn't tell rather or not José was being serious which was the worse part of their current staring contest that they were stuck in.

"I don't - it's fine I mean ..."

"Relax baby face." José smirked at Harvard and slid the glass over to the younger male. "How old are you anyway?"

"Twenty-Two." Harvard cleared his throat. He could tell that José didn't believe him but it didn't matter since he already had his drink. "One?" Harvard smirked. "Eighteen."

"Okay,"

"Sixteen." Harvard confessed and drank from his drink.

"You're only sixteen?" José asked, he sat himself up straight and tilted his head to the side. He knew he was being checked out he wanted to atleast look good.

"You thought I was eighteen?" Harvard smirked. The twins were always bigger then most of the children their age. They always had been. However, since Harvard was training for the various sports teams he was apart of as well as getting on track for the next Olympics, he worked out and it was definitely apparent.

"Well you probably could pass for twenty-one if it weren't the baby face." José explained. "Listen, don't be one of those immature brats when you're drunk. I don't feel like getting my ass chewed out for serving to minors."

"Aren't you like, into that sort of thing?" Harvard asked and followed quickly with a loud laugh. "This isn't my first, second or third time having a drink. You're fine." Harvard spoke, holding his hands up.

"Am I?" José asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

 **Just like the world is ours**

 **We're tearin' it apart**

Giselle Hilton was thee American socialite of their generation. The modern day Paris Hilton. Yale-Rose was everything perfect tied together in a satin bow, but Giselle was fun. She was wild, daring, carefree and the topic of everyones conversation. She oozed femininity and fun. And tonight was no different. She opted for a baby doll-pink dress and her hair was in a tight and high ballerina bun - atleast when her parents were around. Now, the parents were slowly leaving the venue and the fun could officially begin. Giselle walked around the Coppacabbana and sighed when she noticed that her best friend Yale-Rose was _still_ talking with Blair Waldorf and Nell Diamond. Serena Vanderwoodsen didn't show up because she was still vacationing in Switzerland according to Twitter and the blonde had nothing else to compel her time. Gigi smirked when she saw one of the Rockefeller twins before sighing. It seemed like Duke was flirting with the male bartender and even though Gigi called it way back in the eighth grade but Yale and Boe weren't around for her to finally win the bet they all made. Still, she needed Harvard Rockefeller. The fun one. A.K.A the one that would know where to get the best drugs and how to get them. Gigi shook her head at the view of _Duke_ and José speaking. Gigi knew José since he bartended at the Palace and she definitely knew José would let her in on the details about him and _Duke_. Gigi's Viktor&Rolf dress swayed in the wind as she walked through the party she thought for a quick second about asking Suri , the society basket case , for her drug connection until she saw a very handsome, unfamiliar face. If she couldn't get drugs from Harvey, and her mother was policing the bar to make sure she didn't get any drinks, then spending the night with a hot guy would suffice. All that mattered to Gigi was that he looked well, just incase Gossip Girl did catch her with him. He was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. He had the sort of tan that Yale and Gigi aspired to have but even an entire summer at St. Barth's wouldn't acquire it since it was obviously natural. She could tell his tailored teal suit and Gucci shoes were also authentic and when she tapped his shoulder and he turned to face her - she realized that this guy was the most gorgeous guy she had ever seen.

"Yeah?" The mystery man turned around and Giselle froze for a quick moment.

"Well," Gigi was never nervous around guys. She'd hooked up with guys from all over the country and all over the world but this was the only guy that had her lost for words. She flashed him a smile and he rose his eyebrow as if he had something better to do. Did those sea green eyes not work? Couldn't he see that there was nothing better to do in the Upper East Side than a night with Gigi Hilton? "I happen to know everyone here. Except for you." Gigi smirked, playfully adjusting his collar. "Wanna change that?" The mystery boy glanced over Gigi. From head to toe. She usually only received that sort of look from girls that couldn't handle her presence but the slight tinge of annoyance faded away when she realized he liked what he saw.

"Well, I can tell this is your town," The mystery guy spoke. Once she caught his dialog she realized that no guy was perfect and this guy was from Brooklyn. He had that same accent that Robert De Niro does in all of his movies but he didn't look like Robert De Niro. He looked like he grew up on Park Ave. Was Brooklyn really _this_ progressive? Gigi had heard stories about Brooklyn but she had never gone herself. Truthfully, she never went because Yale never wanted to. The boys - led by Boe at the time, always came back from Brooklyn with the wildest stories that she had wished she'd been apart of. Though she was always secretky afraid to do certain things without Yale by her side. This, was as close to Brooklyn as she'd ever get. "Show me around." He flashed the girl a grin.

 **You know we're superstars, we are who we are!**

 **We're dancing like we're dumb**

Marpessa turned on the gold glittered heel of her Giuseppe Zanotti sandals as she walked through the elite experience. She sipped from her 'Yellow Jacket' drink and made her observations for the evening. Ofcourse, Marpessa Monroe was fashionably late and according to Gossip Girl, she didn't miss much. She did overhear a conversation between Harvard Rockefeller and the cute/gay bartender that her best friend Elijah would love to hear about. Her full lips formed a slight pout, she would've loved to go tit for tat with Yale Rockefeller right now, or be making out with her desired date for the evening but every move Marpessa made had to be calculated. After tonight the Upper East Side and the elite society would be turned upside down. She could feel it in the air somehow. Maybe, she was beginning to inherit her mothers 'gifts' and though she'd rather inherit her mothers jewels and shoes, being the wicked witch of the East Side sure sounded good to her. Marpessa's big and bold crimped mane seemed to move fluidly every time the girl had a twisted or evil thought, which meant her gorgeous hair never stayed still. She made her way around the room and linked arms with Duke Rockefeller. Her personal favorite out of the 'Big 3'. She never liked Yale, and Harvey was way too dense for her liking - though being gay would be a good plot twist that would make him a tad bit less of a stereotypical rich elite. "D," Marpessa grinned looking up at the taller guy. The Rockefeller twins had the strongest jawlines that Marpessa ever seen. They also had huge biceps. Duke Rockefellers arm practically ate her tiny one when she linked their limbs.

"Don-Roe." Duke smirked down at Marpessa. In a few weeks it was official. Sure, she and the other girls had been sited to be the Queens of their generation but junior year solidified everything. Sure, there were talks of replacing Mahsuri Wu because of her family legal issues, along with Nightingale and Spence having no one truly worthy of a title, Marpessa knew she was good to go and her title rang bells.

"What's a handsome elite like you doing wandering a party all alone?" Marpessa asked, smirking up at him.

"Well these parties don't have the same ... spunk as they used to." Duke spoke, turning and looking down at Marpessa. " _Something_ has been missing for a while now."

"Well I have a feeling that's all about to change."

 **Our bodies going numb**

 **We'll be forever young**

Austin emerged from the males bathroom at the Copacabbana and stuffed a few $100 bills into his suit jacket before something mysterious caught his attention. It was Lorenzo Cali leaving the party with Giselle Hilton. Sure, everyone in the Upper East Side saw Gigi as a wild child but she defiantly wouldn't be able to keep up with a guy like 'Mad Dog'. Anyone who could brutally murder a person and then go straight to a party shouldn't be tied up with the UES princess. Even though Austin had his issues with his former friends and a certain mix of respect and fear for Enzo and the rest of his new family he wasn't sure he could let this happen. As he practically tried sprinting through the crowd in a way that wouldn't raise suspicion he saw his best friend and grabbed her wrist. "Come." Mahsuri's Oscar Tiye Lilac Satin Crystal shoes practically floated as she was whisked through the elite event and to the quieter area of the rooftop. She checked over her shoulder and watched the male, raising her eyebrow. She was more confused about Austin's presence than anything. She had been begging him to attend the 'Kiss on the Lips' party for an entire week and he had declined every advance.

"What are you doing here?" Fei asked happily before crossing her arms over her halter dress. Suri was very tall for her age and didn't mind hovering over any of the elite bachelors in her high heels. Her mother always told her the higher the heel the 'closer to God' and by the way the dark haired girl lived her life, she could definitely use that kind of encouragement. "What are you doing in general?" Suri added, wondering why Austin Roosevelt almost pulled her arm out of it's socket.

"Long story." Austin started.

"Well I have time..." One reason Suri wanted Austin at her side during the event was because they had both been out-casted by their peers. Austin was previous a top teir guy and Suri was an ultimite 'it' girl. She was scouted as the 'Queen of Chapin' and even though Don Wu didn't think those titles mattered in society, they began to mean the world to her when she thought she might be stripped of them. At the height of the summer, and the New York City heat wave, Suri's father was convicted for insurance fraud - rich people crimes, and now she was looked down on by people who were below her. She had a status and a stock presence that dropped as fast as her ass hit the pavement from being kicked out of the Waldorf Astoria as her father was escorted out in handcuffs. Gossip Girl was the first to post the pictures. Gossip Girl was also the one to leak that everything owned by the Wu girls was seized by the bank. Even though they had a couple millions saved away they were embarrassments and Austin was a social orphan after the Roosevelt family publicly cut him off, yes, Gossip Girl broke that news story first as well. Suri walked over to the glass walls and looked at Austin's dark brown eyes. They seemed lonely. They had been that way since his life changed completely. The Roosevelt family was still going on like they didn't connect with him when in reality, they raised him and judging by the rumors, they were the most messed up out of all the aristocratic dynasties. "Aussie," Suri groaned. "What's wrong?"

"You know," Austin gulped and bit his lip. On one hand, being apart of the Gambino family gave him a sense of pride. He felt like a bad ass and like he was apart of something. However, he also felt embarrassed. Only because he couldn't actually tell people like Suri about his new family without worrying about his 'elite' image. This wasn't Hannah Montana and he wasn't having the best of both worlds. "You know," he repeated, clearing his throat. Was this fight club? Could he _not_ tell Suri or anyone else what he had just seen? Tony told _something_ he knew about Lorenzo Cali and it didn't end well. As far as Austin knew he was on Enzo's good side and he didn't want to jeopardize that. "how I've been dealing?"

"Yes." Suri said in a sickened tone. She was no saint. She had done a list of questionable things and sometimes in Austin's presence but something about Austin resorting to selling drugs made her feel disappointed. "Is that still paying your stay in the Lincoln? And the Collegiate school for that matter?"

"Yes," Austin answered. Sure, he couldn't bring Suri into this world. He'd never let his UES influence intertwine with the Gambino family, aside from parties like this where money could be made. But, if Suri knew and saw the type of money he was making, she'd understand why he was doing this. She made it seem like he was dancing to the Magic Mike anthem for a few pennies a week. The Gambino Family was making a 'killing' in the drug industry- and even though the pun wasn't intended it was definitely implied. "It's not that."

"Okay?" Suri questioned, her full lips gaped open. Wu hated that Roosevelt was going though things and resorted to selling drugs when his family was an empire though she also felt like she wasn't alone and had someone that knew what it felt like to be stripped of their status.

"Have you ever heard of the Gambino Family?"

"No." Suri stood up straight. "Hell no." Judging by Mahsuri's reaction and facial expression, she definitely heard of the Gambino crime Family and she clearly didn't want Austin involved. He didn't want to hear any preaching. Nothing would change his mind about his current lifestyle but knowing their were people in the Upper East Side that still cared about him meant a lot. "You're dealing with them?!" Suri's eyes went wide. She looked like she was about to jump out of her skin. Suri was in a state of shock and almost disgust. Why was Austin aligning himself with these people? She watched her old friends calm demeanor which only meant what Suri feared, that he had no idea what he had gotten himself into. Austin was a Roosevelt. A product of an American aristocratic family. What does he really have to gain from running the streets with misfits? The dark haired male sighed and shook his head. His new lifestyle came with a stigma that he hadn't known how to handle until now. Previously, he couldn't come to terms with what he was doing. He grew up an elite, looking down on people in the mafia. They weren't perfect but neither was the society.

"What makes us better than them?" Austin asked. The question hovered over his head ever since he made his way out of the Lincoln and to the wrong side of the tracks. He was down when the Roosevelts kicked him out. They hadn't cared to check on him and he couldn't face anyone. Not even Suri. For almost a month, he was actually living in a three star motel. The little money he had left between living and pretending in the media that was Gossip Girl that he a) wasn't hurting and b) could still keep up with his lifestyle, it was gone. He had enough for food or drugs and his final choice ended him up in Brooklyn looking for cocaine. The 'bad guys' took mercy on him. They took him in and got him back on his feet in a matter of days he was back to living the way he had always lived. "Really? Tell me!" He somewhat demanded. Every single time he thought about the things he went through and how his family didn't care it triggered him. "Because these people," he gestured to the crowd of festive elites. "Are the fucking worst. They are weak and they are hypocrites. The Gambinos would literally die before turning their backs on their own and my _actual_ family tossed me to the side and my friends since birth cut me off because a blog told them I wasn't cool." Austin huffed. Suri didn't look like she _got_ it. Why did he think she would? Her father was in prison after committing crimes in order to keep up appearances and here she was... Mahsuri Wu. At an elite party where she wasn't welcome just to tell people who didn't care that she was doing fine which she wasn't. "If you knew the secrets that even Gossip Girl doesn't post, you'd be disgusted by them. I'm done with all of this shit." The people who were in the Gambino family were bold. Everyone knew what they did and everyone had an opinion on it but they didn't give a shit. They lived their lives and Austin was ready to live his outside of the elite circle. He had fought with himself about a balance. How not to get caught out of fear of judgement. They all wasted too much time caring about what each other thought.

"You're one of them." Suri reminded. "One of _us. By blood."_ Austin's statement had truth to it and weight. No family was perfect and judging by the rumors, the Roosevelt's were among the worst but so what? Family had their issues and it didn't change a thing. They were still family and when Austin decided to give up on his phase, he could clear things up with his family and be back to normal.

"Blood makes you related." Austin said dryly. "Loyalty makes you family." He added. The society knew nothing about loyalty. "I really thought you were different. Non judgmental and someone I could still talk to."

"I am. You've known me since forever." Suri spoke.

"I've known all of these people since forever and not one of them has checked on me."

"I'm one of them that has." Suri got defensive. "And as a real friend, I have to tell you when you're going down the wrong path. This isn't you."

"It is me!" Austin shook his head. "Nothing has changed. I'm me and you're you. I still got you and you still got me. Right?"

"Right." Suri sighed. Austin wouldn't budge but he was always stubborn. She hoped he figured things out before it was too late.

 **You know we're superstars, we are who we are!**

 **DJ turn it up**

Yale-Rose blinked her eyes trying to fight the fatigue that was coming over her. It was almost 12am and everything that _would_ happen at an elite party would've commenced by now. Duke's flirting with the bartender was already on Gossip Girl as well as Austin Roosevelt's return to the society, Yale and Prince's photo-op and Gigi leaving with a mystery guy who was hot judging by the bad quality of the 'paparazzi' picture sent to Gossip Girl. Yale considered herself a fun girl and everyone seemed to still be having a good time. The elite circle was still lively even if Yale wanted to call it a night. Her feet hurt and all she wanted was to get Prince and get back to her house so they could cuddle, talk through their issues and have makeup sex. The brunette lazily swayed as the beginning of Billie Eilish's 'You Should See Me In A Crown' blasted through the Copacabanna speakers. The song and Billie's soothing yet raspy voice almost debunked Ariana Grande's 'God Is A Woman' as Yale's favorite song. Almost. For a moment, Yale started to believe that she had already made it to her home until she heard the crowd began to cheer. She soon realized the light show that was being initiated to follow the tune. Red, purple and blue strobe lights bounced off of the walls and Yale was hearing compliments on a show that she did not plan. The silk drapes on the ceiling began to lower and as the clock struck twelve and the beat to the song brought in the chores, Yale and everyone else saw a tan, dark haired girl in red lingerie performing the silks. What fresh hell was this and who the fuck was she?! Yale's eyes grew wide as her face turned as red as the mystery girls sheer La Perla bra and matching thong. The sorts of things that Yale wore under her clothing. Just as things were winding down and Yale was starting to fantasize about the life and queendom that her conversation with Blair and Nell painted for her. It was all about to fall apart thanks to a random slut on silks. The girls long, dark ponytail swayed as she strutted closer to the center stage. As Billie Eilish's latest single blasted through the speakers of the venue, Yale wanted to scream though her internal emotions were muted by the external sound of the crowd actually cheering. As if Yale-Rose would ever plan something like this.

"Damn girl!" Marpessa Monroe appeared from behind Yale. Marpessa's smirk was what always worried Yale. She never knew what the other elite girl was going to say or do. "I didn't think you'd have the balls to hire a lady of the night to perform life and in the Upper East Side. Especially with Prince's wandering eye lusting somewhere around here."

"What wandering eye?" Yale neck almost snapped because of the swiftness of her turn. She glared over at Marpessa with fire in her eyes. There were already so many rumors about Prince and Yale that she stopped caring or keeping up with them all. Some made her laugh and others made her wonder but _this_ coming from Marpessa specifically made her nervous about what Marpessa might know. The brown toned girl is known for being in on everyones secrets. Some even suspected that Marpessa was Gossip Girl and honestly, Yale thought Marpessa could be Gossip Girl as well. "He loves me." Yale defended her relationship though now her thoughts were wandering.

"I never said he didn't." Marpessa winked and walked in the opposite direction. Yale's eyes followed Marpessa before locking on to Blair who didn't look as pleased as her husband, Chuck Bass. Yale's social status could be imploding in front of her eyes considering that she couldn't exactly move or make an even bigger scene. The 'show' ended, Yale Rockefeller was waiting by the backstage, arms crossed and all. As the dark haired dancer got off the stage, Yale's eyes went wide. She was fucking gorgeous. Strikingly and actually was the same age as Yale. Which evened the playing field for the mystery girls untimely murder.

"Who the fuck are you?" Yale screamed.

"You'll know soon enough." The girl winked her sea green eyes at Yale before spinning and walking down another lane granting Yale to notice that every single part of the girl was perfect. Yale hated her.

 **It's about damn time to live it up**

 **I'm so sick of being so serious**

Austin's eyes where where everyone elses were. The ass- the _girl_ hanging from the curtains of the Coppacabana. It was the sexiest thing that Austin Roosevelt set his eyes on. Aside from the wild night of the Rockefeller twin's 16th birthday in Amsterdam and the summer in the Hampton's before freshman year. At the time Austin was still on good terms with his parents and everyone else that was linked to his previous Upper East Side life. He invited his entire crew to his families vacation home and Yale Rockefeller - everyones dream girl, decided to wear alittle more (less) then her usual, purple bay-watch style swim suit. She showed up with her long dark hair slicked back, and fabric that was barley there and clinged to her body as soon as she got into the Jacuzzi. Everything changed that summer, not just Boe's disappearance. But it was when Yale's sex appeal went up a few notches. As soon as he was caught looking at her for too long, her boyfriend Prince took bride in whispering to him that the girl had just lost her virginity to him. Smirking as he went into detail. That shit killed Austin a little bit. Now he was realizing that Prince wasn't the great guy everyone thought he was and that Yale deserved a guy like him. Atleast Austin was straight up with everything he had done. He never hid behind a poster child image, he left that up to Prince and Duke. Austin looked around the party hoping to lock eyes with Yale. Instead he just saw Prince with his arms around another girl. "What the fuck?" Austin said sternly. Loud enough for the 'couple' to hear. He didn't care if Prince got mad and tried to kick his ass. His boldness was kicking back in again. "Who the fuck is this?"

"What?" The blonde blinked her blue eyes. Her voice seemed sweet and she looked genuinely confused. Austin's tone softened. The girl had long wavy blonde hair and he could tell she was an elite. The fact that he didn't recognize her face from Gossip Girl just proved that she was new to the city. He wouldn't forget this girls face. Prince was prying on an innocent girl that had no idea that a) he had a girlfriend and b) she would rip this tiny female into shreds.

"Ignore him." Prince said smoothly, rubbing the girls arm. "Where did you say you were from again?" Prince licked his lips as he spoke. Austin remembered the move as something Boe, Prince's cousin, taught them. It made the guy look cool and made the girl attracted to his lips and how they might feel according to William Hilton. Austin scoffed and rested his arm on the bar, ordering a rum and coke and shaking his head as he tried to listen to the conversation being had. Maybe he should let Prince dig himself deep instead of defending Yale's honor like he intended. He wanted her to see on her own what Prince had become. Or, always was. Austin listened. The male tried texting Enzo about the nights transactions and listened. He sipped his drink, and listened. The mystery blonde was from Bentonville, Arkansas. But, for a random reason she felt like Scotland was her second home. Prince must've thought the girl was beautiful. She was, but Prince called her it so much that Austin could've mistaken it for her actual first name. She wanted to attend a university for pediatrics, had a pet rabbit and was a huge K-Pop fan. They talked for what felt like hours and he just listened. Nowhere in the conversation was Yale-Rose mentioned. How could anyone forget to mention Yale-Rose Rockefeller.

 **It's making my brain delirious!**

 **I'm just talkin' truth**

 **ᴅɪsᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ: ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟ ɴᴀᴍᴇs ᴏғ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇs, ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ᴀʙʙʀᴇᴠɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴛ. ɴᴀᴍᴇʟʏ, ᴍᴇ.**

ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴏʀᴋ ᴄɪᴛʏ ʟɪɢʜᴛs ᴡᴇʀᴇ sʜɪɴɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ sᴇᴇɴ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴛɪɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡs ᴏғ ᴀ 𝟷𝟿𝟽𝟷 ʙᴜɪᴄᴋ ʀɪᴠɪᴇʀᴀ. ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴʟʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴍᴀɴʜᴀᴛᴛᴀɴs 'ʙʟᴏɴᴅᴇ ʙᴏᴍʙ-sᴄᴀʀᴇ' ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀɴ ʟᴇɢs ᴏғ ᴀ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀʏ sᴀʟᴠᴀᴛᴏʀᴇ. ᴡᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀɴʜᴀᴛᴛᴀɴ 'ɪᴛ ɢɪʀʟs' ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʟᴀʙᴇʟs ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴀsᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇs ʙᴜᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇɴ'ᴛ sᴜʀᴇ ɪғ ʀᴏsᴇ sᴄʜʟᴏssʙᴇʀɢ ᴡᴀɴᴛs ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ʜɪs ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ. - xᴏxᴏ ɢᴏssɪᴘ ɢɪʀʟ

All that Gigi could feel around her was heat, fire and angst. She wasn't a virgin and she wasn't a saint but something about the guy she just met that had her feeling 10x more un-holy then the girls reputation around the Upper East Side already was. And no one would be surprised that she left a party for a quick time. She was taking after her older cousin and was this generations Paris Hilton -nay Serena Van Der Woodsen. The blonde bombscare and nothing less was expected from her than to create the wildest moments. Did she feel bad that she didn't get to spend time with Yale? Sure. However, Yale probably appreciated actually being the center of attention for an entire night. Gigi showed up, served looks, took a few pictures and left with a good looking elite. It was a usual night and story the mind blowing sex she had just had would be a voucher of forgiveness for Yale Rockefeller if she didn't see things the same thing Gigi did. Gigi bit her full lips and tossed her wild mane out of her face as she got a good look of the hotel. The immaculate view from the full wall window told her she was at Park Central and the hotels clock confirmed that Yale's party was indeed over. Gigi's naked body twirled through the lux sheets as she tried her best to find her iPhone through it all. The bright light from her iPhone felt like it burned her irises for a quick second. A few text messages from Yale, none of them seemed upset, more so just informative of the events she missed. Gossip Girl already had a lengthy post on the nights events and Gigi knew she was mentioned. Probably to say what she knew - she looked great and was a slut. Typical. Gigi ignored the most recent post and scrolled through the archive. She wasn't used to being infatuated with another person. Guys drooled over her and she was gone in a New York minute but here she was cuddling a pillow that smelt like 'Eros' by Versace, wishing she knew his mothers middle name and random facts like his favorite song. During their car ride she bummed some of his fat cigar as Drake's song, 'Mob Ties' played though they had sex to Frank Sinatra. This man was out of this world. Every bone in his body. Gigi scrolled through Gossip Girls catalog hoping this guy was mentioned even the slightest. She had no idea where to start. She searched every minuscule detail she could thing of thus far. He was wearing a Burberry suit, a Rolex and he had a classic car that looked brand new. His face was chiseled perfectly. Ofcourse he was an elite. As her short acrylic nails clicked against her phone screen she noticed the faint sound of the suites shower. _He didn't leave._ Usually in 'one night stands' someone disappears. Maybe it was just that Gigi woke up to early for him to get his clean get away but she didn't care. This was her chance to get dirty. As she bravely stepped off of the bed and grabbed his dress shirt, sliding in to it - checking the tag ofcourse. Givenchy. They had those horrid 'Iris' print shirts that Gigi thought were the worst thing they could've designed. The red smeers did nothing for the green in the suit that she tore of of her contender, though things like that didn't matter at the moment. She walked into the lavish hotel bathroom and smirked at the males silhouette in the shower curtain.

"Room for one more?" His gorgeous head peered from behind the shower curtain and when his green eyes landed on her, she dropped his shirt to the floor, softly kicking it to the side. "Well?" Her full lips smirked as he opened the curtain, _completely_ revealing himself. Gigi almost slobbered over her bare chest over how bad she wanted him. Though she kept her face and body calm and collected, she stepped into the walk in shower and let him lift her up to his waist with his bare hands, pushing her against the tile of the shower walls initiating round II.

 **I'm telling you 'bout the shit we do**

 **We're sellin' our clothes, sleepin' in cars**

A tinted and all exclusive 2018 Mercedes-Benz G-Class parked in the lot of the Waldorf Astoria hasn't rose suspicion in a few days. None of the elite residents of the luxury hotel saw the red flags of the slim, glowing tan skin belonging to the Wu women as they snuck and crept back to their home. No, not the WA, the Benz. Even though the reports and ramblings the woman did were true, Michael Yeoh, Suri's father, did hide money incase his affairs were seized. However, _they,_ couldn't get it. Her father made it so that no one could get to his cut, including herself or mother. And her grandparents weren't willing to give to Suri's mother or give Suri her inheritance until she was eighteen. Meaning that Suri had no money until next year and her mother had none in general. No one would want the wife of an economic criminal working for them - not that Datin Sri Tina Yeoh had any working skills. Both woman had been too proud to reach out to anyone and sell their things since they still had appearances to uphold. The dark haired girl huffed at her current living situation, adjusting the 'take away' plate she prepared for herself and her mother after 'Kiss', resting it on the dash board and checking the coast. Ran was now taking her 'turn' in the hotel showers thanks to a few staff members that still had respect for the family. Suri always thought that treating people nicely went a long way. It was what set herself aside from her peers. She respected everyone and this situation she was in, was a lesson. If she treated the hotel staff the way others treated their staff, they wouldn't be risking their jobs, keeping a million dollar secret and going out of their way to look out for her. It helped, but this wasn't enough for Suri. The mighty had fallen and this summer was horrible. How could she show her face at Chapin? How would she be able to keep this up for another few weeks ... and even through her senior year? The brunette fought back tears as she checked the rear view mirror for her mothers shadow. Once she knew the coast was clear, she pushed the food plate closer to the side and dug through her purse grabbing the small bag that Austin Rockefeller sold her. She traded her Mario Valentino purse for the money and after being seen in the Petite Malle bag, her current Louis Vuitton would be next. The white, crystallized substance was gently placed on the dashboard, while Suri straightened the formation with her razor. It was almost like she had stars for eyes, this moment at night was what had been getting her through her days. The only thing that felt like it mattered.

 **Dressin' it down, hittin' on dudes (hard!)**

 **You know we're superstars, we are who we are!**

 ** _ʜᴇʏ ᴜᴘᴘᴇʀ ᴇᴀsᴛ sɪᴅᴇʀs, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ's ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɢᴏssɪᴘ ɢɪʀʟ ʟɪᴋᴇs ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴀ sᴜʀᴘʀɪsᴇ._**

Marpessa Monroe slipped into her dimly lit bedroom and smirked to herself at the cimmerian vibe that her chambers held. The beautiful girl felt butterflies as a familiar shadow moved through the darkness. "I wish you would've come." Her confession filled the silence as she slipped out of her heels. Nothing else was heard through the small pause of silence until the embellishments of her designer dress hit the floor. "I missed you." She pouted, moving closer to the male silhouette.

 **ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴀʟᴇ ʀᴏsᴇ's ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴠɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴀɴᴅ sᴇᴀʟᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀʟʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴋɪss.**

"Not yet." A deeper voice spoke, wrapping his arms around her small waist, pulling her in with a passionate roughness. "You really missed me?" The boy smirked, his blue eyes lit by the faint glimmer of light through her window. He was a sight to see. A sight that the entire Upper East Side had been trying to see for months. Years, even. Boe Hilton was Manhattan's most wanted, and Don Roe's best kept secret. Even after time, and everything that they had been through, she had been the only person he wanted to see since his departure. She was still the only person he wanted to see. "You missed me?" Boe teased, licking his lips sexily as he gripped on Marpessa's ass. "Show me how much." He almost demanded as he lifted her, throwing her down to her bed.

 **ɪ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀʟʟ ᴜᴘ. xᴏxᴏ - ɢᴏssɪᴘ ɢɪʀʟ**


	4. YOUNG DUMB FILTHY F'N RICH

**"Just like the mob, New York prep schools have their own five families." Gossip Girl**

 **ʜᴛᴛᴘs:/xᴏxᴏ-ᴛʜᴇғɪᴠᴇ.ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ.ᴄᴏᴍ**

 **(check out elite page and hover over their full names. Only updated pages on the 5, more will come.)**

* * *

Mapressa Monroe let out a pleasure filled moan, pushing her natural- and sweaty, curls out off her face, climbing off of the beast that was Boe Hilton, and laying beside him. The chocolate brown girls cheeks formed into a bright grin as the Manhattan sunlight crept into her bedroom. Everything was better on the Upper East Side. Even though they were two polar opposites, Marpessa and Boe both agreed on that. She also agreed that she liked things better when she had Boe in her bed. Almost three weeks ago, the news broke that Boe Hilton was back in Manhattan after a two year hiatus. And unlike most Gossip Girl 'scandals', the news still hadn't died down. Every other day someone was whispering and checking over their shoulders to find out where America's most wanted socialite was. And right now, Marpessa knew something that even Gossip Girl didn't know. For once, Marpessa had one up on Yale Rockefeller - the Constance Queen. Yale own the heirossy and had it folded up in her Louis Vuitton clutch. Her last name was Rockefeller and everyone wanted to be her. But Marpessa had a case file of information that kept Yale Rockefeller in the palms of her tiny hands. "I missed this," Marpessa admitted to Boe, rubbing her full lips together as she watched Boe's Tiffany blue box flicker. Did he actually care? When they dated, things were far from average and way to complicated to keep up with though, when she realized that there was a chance that she would never see Hilton again it broke her heart. Ofcourse like any Monroe she flipped her hair and smizzed her way through the pain and publicity following Boe's disappearance. Now here he was. In the flesh. All five inches. And even though she enjoyed it, she still didn't know where he had been, why he returned and _why he returned to her doorstep._

"Yeah, me too." The blonde haired male spoke nonchalantly which gave the vixen a certain form of distaste. As she rolled her eyes, he sat up straight watching her perfect frame glide around the room. She could feel his eyes on her but she ignored his mental advances. Marpessa knew him too well. She fetched her pink silk 'Clara' robe from Gilda & Pearl, off of it's designated hanger that was placed above the entrance to her walk in sliding into it and tying the front of the garment into a pretty bow.

"Why are you here?" Marpessa crossed her arms. She moved closer to Boe as she waited on his answers. Instead of moving his lips, Boe used his hands, gently tugging at the robes belt only aggressively enough to untie what she was wearing. "Stop," she swatted his hands away. Boe was charming. And gorgeous, and there had been a void since he left the Upper East/West. He knew it. Which was why he always acted the way he did. He knew he was wanted and desired which fueled most cis white males in America. Especially the ones with powerful last names.

"I missed you." Boe Hilton grinned. He let out a smooth chuckle that caused Marpessa to wonder if he was serious about what he was saying and how he felt about her. Marpessa watched him snake his arms around her waist, and his hands cupping her butt. Marpessa huffed and rolled her eyes thinking about where they were before he left. The exact same place. The only difference was that she had a little less confidence in herself, yet way more confidence in them as a unit. She hated admitting how much it hurt her when he left.

"I thought you were dead." Marpessa said dryly. When Boe showed up for her, she dreaded the point in their reunion when things had to get real. The entire Upper East Side couldn't get past his disappearance, how could anyone expect her to? "Your family thought you were dead! Now you came back for what? To _hit it_ one last time?" She scoffed.

"Come on, Pea." Boe rolled his eyes. He pushed his hair back out of his face and pouted. In that instance, the girl actually felt bad. Boe always made his presence seem like just that - a present. And he had a way of making people not want to do anything that would make him leave and not come back. Especially since he showed everyone how good he was at dong it. He used his pet name for her which made her melt. It always made her feel special, but she knew with him she wasn't really. He had a pony-list that wrapped around the entire city - now it was possibly international and she knew she was just another name.

"This 'Where's William' game is getting old." Marpessa expressed. "You need to go. Specifically to the Lincoln." Marpessa demanded. Boe's _dated_ Gucci luggage was stacked in the deep corner of Marpessa's walk in closet and it was time to go. Having Boe with her when no one else knew where he was felt like she was apart of Manhattan's best kept secret. She did feel like she had one up on Yale Rockefeller and Gigi Hilton. But Gigi was his cousin and everyone knew how worried sick the entire Hilton family had been in his absence. Being photographed at JFK after not being seen for years, felt like the typical Boe Hilton stunt. To get people talking about him 24/7 like he was used to. But it was also teasing the people who actually cared about him. Like his family, and Marpessa.

* * *

"New York City lights were shining, and nothing could be seen from the dark tinted windows of a 1971 Buick Riviera ..." Yale-Rose's mink lashes fluttered as she cut her eye at her best friend, Gigi. The original plan for Yale and Gigi to stay at Yale's and have a relaxing morning at the Mandarin's spa. Sure, by the end of night, Yale herself didn't feel up to a sleep over with Gigi after dealing with her up and down relationship with Gigi's brother, Prince. When they were twelve and Yale confessed her _real_ feelings for her best friends brother they raved about joined weddings and becoming sisters, but the downside was that when things went wrong with Yale and Prince's relationship, she couldn't talk to her best friend about it. She hated that. Prince went from being annoying, to sweet, to loving, to disappearing for the entire night at her event. Now she was with her hungover best friend, going over the night via Gossip Girl's event posts. "So, you sucked dick in a _Buick?_ "

"A vintage Buick." Gigi defended herself. "It made me feel sexy kinda. Like Farrah Fawcett." The girls both loved the 60s/70s era. From movies, to music, to fashion. Yale's ideal life would be depicted similarly to Brigitte Bardot in 'A Very Private Affair'. Becoming a fabulous French socialite that's desired and famed. Sure, it was close enough to her actual life, but set in France - making it automatically better. Gigi tried to be more like Pamela Des Barres - 'Queen of the groupies'. Yale groaned and rolled her eyes, she hadn't actually seen Gigi leave with the guy and the shot Gossip Girl posted gave no information other than the fact that he had dark hair and a tailored suit. As Yale continued to read, she cut her eyebrow at the hint GG dropped about the males family. Gossip Girl was right, labels and family names meant a lot. In the society your last name got you everything and everywhere. Yale-Gigi wouldn't dare marry anyone without aristocratic value let alone sleep with anyone. Gigi was related to both Elizabeth Taylor and Zsa Zsa Gabor by marriage. She was selling herself short! "Well, what's his last name?" Yale asked, picking up on Gigi's discomfort with the question. "Gigi, do you even know his first name?" Gigi's head peeked over Yale's shoulder at the post secretly hoping there was more posted about the mystery guy since Gigi last checked. Usually Gossip Girl would be all over the 'Blonde Bomb-scare' and her mystery guy but the cryptic message that Gossip Girl posted within the post let Gigi know that she knew exactly who the 'Salvatore' was and what his last name meant. Why should she care, anyway? This was just another one night stand that Gigi knew better than to get caught up about. She never, ever thought about a guy after she left the scene of the crime but she couldn't stop thinking about _him._

 _"I wasn't caught up in that."_ Gigi stressed shaking her head. Now she knew the time for Yale's lecture was right now. And her best friend was about to spew the age old sentiment of status and images even though they both knew the blonde was here for a 'good time, not a long time'. "It felt like a movie. The ones we fantasized about as little girls. Shit, Cinderella left the party without getting the prince's last name."

"She danced, she didn't pull a 'Monica Lewinsky'." Yale reminded. However, seeing Gigi's reaction and slight hint of giddiness made Yale actually happy. Gigi _never_ showed true interest in any of the guys she was linked to and maybe this guy could be the one. "Fine, bitch tell me about him." Gigi's face perked up as she thought back to the night before.

"I felt young when I was with him." Gigi couldn't characterize her excitement into words. And a girl like Yale would never understand it. She hadn't felt like this in a while. When the pressures of her last name, her image and Boe's disappearance, she couldn't remember ever feeling like an actual teenager. Nervous, excited, curious, intimidated, and chipper all at the same time. "Let me tell you about _my '_ Prince Charming'..." Gigi spoke, tossing her long blonde hair out of her face. She bit her lip with the effortless allurement that Yale secretly envied about her. "He smelled like sex, cigars and high society." Gigi bragged with a light laugh.

"And you don't even know his name?" Yale rose her eyebrow. This was what made the girls different. Yale was an over achiever and a micro-manager. She would never allow herself to have conditions in her life that she didn't know about or couldn't control. Gigi on the other hand, didn't over think anything. In fact, she didn't think at all. She just _lived_.

"All I have is a blurry picture and his room number at the Park Central."

"Well ..." Yale straightened her spine as she thought for a moment. "Let's go get some bell-bottoms and I'll be your Jaclyn Smith." Yale's doe eyes went wide and bright as she thought about getting Gigi together with this mystery guy. Even though 'Kiss' started off very well for herself and her boyfriend Prince - who happened to be Gigi's brother, the night didn't end how she hoped. The blonde male pulled a Neal Patrick Harris style disappearing act and all Yale was left with was the impression that he was off with another girl. An impression that was taunted to her by the lips of Marpessa Monroe which actually made it about 80% true in Yale's tiny head. She couldn't tell Gigi about any of it and she also couldn't be excited about her own love life so she had to manifest her true romantic happiness into her best friend and live vicariously, like the poor.

"So what are we gonna do? Just go to PC and ask a shit ton of questions about the guy in the presidential suite?"

"Precisely." Yale nodded as she stood up. She grabbed her cellphone out of her best friends hand and refreshed the Gossip Girl page scanning the blurry picture of her best friend and the mystery male. Ofcourse the Constance Queen had more than one agenda for the days activities. She knew she could count on her best friend for anything, even without asking. But she hated the idea of asking about her own status. She didn't want to say out loud that she was actually threatened by certain things that transpired while Gigi wasn't at the show. Threat #1, Marpessa Monroe insinuating that her boyfriend Prince was seeing another girl. It was a thought that Yale always shook off. Prince Hilton already had caviar, what would he want with a catfish? Any other girl aside from Gigi would be an instant downgrade. Which brought her to threat #2. Another mysterious face at the event stole the whole damn show. There was a private performer that made a more than public appearance. Yale's entire upper echelon affair was ambushed by a _teenager_ of the night that held the spot of the #1 most talked about event **at** the event and Yale was less than pleased. Along with finding out who stole Gigi's heart, she needed to find out who stole the rest of the night and put a stop to her. _You'll know soon enough,_ Yale remembered hearing the only thing the girl uttered. It haunted Yale all night.

 **ᴅɪsᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ: ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟ ɴᴀᴍᴇs ᴏғ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇs, ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ᴀʙʙʀᴇᴠɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴛ. ɴᴀᴍᴇʟʏ, ᴍᴇ.**

 _ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʟɪᴛᴇs ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇsᴛ ᴠᴀᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ sᴘᴏᴛs. sᴛ. ʙᴀʀᴛʜs, sᴀɪɴᴛ-ᴛʀᴏᴘᴇᴢ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴏᴜsᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀᴍᴘᴛᴏɴs ᴛʜᴀᴛ's sᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴀɴʏ ɴᴀᴋᴇᴅ ʙᴇᴇʀ ᴘᴏɴɢ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴘɪʟʟs ᴘᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴇ sᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴀɴ ᴇʟɪᴛᴇ ɪs ᴀʟʟ ғᴜɴ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴀᴍᴇs. ᴡᴇ ᴀʟʟ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴏᴜʀ ᴠᴀᴄᴀʏ-ᴛɪᴍᴇ. ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ. ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴀʀʟʏ sᴄʜᴇᴅᴜʟᴇᴅ ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴀᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ɢᴇᴛ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴍᴇ ғᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ. ᴛʜᴇ sᴜɴsʜɪɴᴇ sᴇᴀsᴏɴ ʜᴀs ᴏғғɪᴄɪᴀʟʟʏ ᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴀʟᴇ ʀᴏᴄᴋᴇғᴇʟʟᴇʀ - ᴏᴜʀ ɪᴄᴇ ǫᴜᴇᴇɴ, ᴋɪᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴏғғ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʀᴇᴇᴢᴇ ʙʏ ʜᴏsᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴɴᴜᴀʟ 'ᴋɪss ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴘs' ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ. ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏsᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴀᴜᴛᴜᴍɴ. xᴏxᴏ._

Harvey Rockefeller has had a lengthy list of wild nights in his sixteen years of life, but 'Kiss on the Lips was an entirely new ballgame for him. It wasn't the first time he woke up in a strange room, he couldn't bring just _anyone_ back to the Plaza. It also wasn't the first time he left with the bartender. But, it was the first time he woke up next to a _male_ bartender. Harvey awoke to being naked and cuddled by José, the bartender at the Copacabana. The younger male lifted his companions arm, and slowly tried to slide out of the bed unnoticed. He shuffled around the floor of the apartment for his - everything. Pants, shirt, _underwear_ , shoes and every other trace that Harvard Rockefeller was in the East Village. As he searched, Harvard heard a muffle and groan come from the bed. And a voice that made him freeze. "You trying to go unnoticed?" José asked, "You can't with that body... just so you know." Harvard felt a shiver fall over him and a sense of embarrassment he had never felt before. Not when he got caught sending dick pics by his brother when they were 12. Not when he was 14, and got caught by his mother getting to second base in their pool with Daphnie D. The only thing that embarrassed him about that night was that he didn't get to the 'home-run' and loose his virginity to one of the hottest girls he knew back then - his mother 'outted' him for not being his brother, Duke. This was different. Harvard could feel José watching him and actually felt dirty. Mostly because maybe he liked the compliment.

"I uhm," Harvard cleared his throat. "My parents are probably worried so,"

"I get it." José stated with a light chuckle. "For a moment I forgot I was harboring a minor." Harvard nodded uncomfortably, keeping his eyes on his phone. He thought about calling an Uber in order to keep things underwraps from his family or staff - until he thought about the idea of an 'anonymous' tip to Gossip Girl. His family staff got paid to keep the Rockefeller family secrets so he was sure sending his weekend driver his address wouldn't be an issue. The shock set in when Phillipe responded that he was already outside. Harvard fastened his suit pants and sprinted to José's window where he saw the same car that took himself, his brother Duke and his best friend Prince to the 'Kiss on the Lips' party. José must've read Harvard's facial expression because he answered what Harvey had been thinking. "The old guy really stayed all night?" José's lips were full and his teeth were perfect. In the light of day and in the mist of Harvard's walk of shame, he was noticing how attractive the other male was. Which meant the faster he got out of there, the better.

"Look, what happened last night was-"

"A mistake." José finished Harvey's sentence.

"Well it was." Harvard defended. He was known for being one of the most wanted guys in the school _and_ one of the most notable players only after Boe Hilton. Harvard got girls. He wasn't into guys. He just noted that he now had a drinking limit. "And I don't want to see you posting it, or for it to be all over Gossip Girl because my lawyers will be so far up your ass-"

"I'm not even touching that one." José chuckled again, but this time he reached over to his night stand and grabbed a single cigarette placing it to his lips and lighting it. Harvard was caught in a slight daze as he watched him, before he brought himself out of it. Before he could speak, José shook his head, blowing out smoke. "This isn't the first time some rich kid snuck out of the penthouse and followed me back to East Villiage." José clarified.

"We were at Copa's."

"Metaphorically." José said blandly and shoved his long hair out of his face. "Caring about reputations is a rich people trait. I don't give a fuck about Gossip Girl. And no amount of money would make me admit that I served a sixteen year old alcohol and then brought him back home." José spoke. "Even if he looks like you, Baby Face." José had a point, which got Harvard to thinking. Maybe he just had fun with José last night. If no one knew, then it wouldn't hurt. Like most of his one night stands, it didn't mean anything. Right? Having sex with one red-head doesn't mean he has a preference for gingers. He hooked up with a fat chick and didn't tell _anyone._ It was the same exact thing.

* * *

Abigail hummed to the tune in her head as she swayed around the Walton family balcony. The blonde was glowing. Her hair was falling effortlessly, her dress swayed as she did and her scent was prettier than the roses she used to set the scene. She had just moved and she was no longer a small town girl. The things her friends said about the 'Big City' were true. New Yorkers hired strippers for their charity events and the teenagers drank boldly in front of their parents. The 'girls' dressed like adults and none of them seemed to care enough to welcome Abigail into their society. She wasn't used to not making friends. However, in the mist of it all, she met a boy. Tall, blonde and beautiful. He gave her butterflies and at the end of the night, he gave her a kiss. Abby almost let Prince in, but her parents car pulled up. Instead, Prince gave her another kiss goodnight and she invited him back to the estate for breakfast. Abby put on her favorite dress and made sure her parents knew she was having a guest. She could remember that Prince said he also liked chocolate chip pancakes and hibiscus tea in the morning. The girl could already tell they were perfect together. Abby was giddy and innocent compared to the girls Prince must've been used to. He seemed to be the perfect gentleman, which gave her hope for UES boys that she also had for the elite males of the Southern society. She didn't want to think about his bad East Coast habits or his dirty New York scandals. Honestly, Abby didn't think he'd have any.

 **ᴍᴏsᴛ ʀᴇʟᴇᴠᴀɴᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴍᴀɴʜᴀᴛᴛᴀɴ's sᴏᴄɪᴇᴛʏ sᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ '𝟷𝟾**

 **#1 | THE RECORD FOR INTER-ECONOMICAL MARRIAGES WAS BROKEN.**

ᴅᴇʟɪʟᴀʜ ᴅᴜᴘᴏɴᴛ sɴᴀɢɢᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀsᴇʟғ ᴀ ʀᴏᴛʜsᴄʜɪʟᴅ! ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟᴀʙᴇʟs ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴀsᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ. ᴊᴜsᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ɢɪʀʟ ʙʀᴇᴇᴅ ɪɴ sᴏᴄɪᴇᴛʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡs ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀʀʀʏ ᴀ ᴍᴀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʟᴀsᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀғᴜʟ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʙᴏʀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ. ᴀs sᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴅʀᴇᴡ ᴀ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ɪs ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ 'ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ' ᴏɴᴇ ᴇʟɪᴛᴇ ᴄʜᴏsᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴡᴀᴘ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀs ᴄᴋ ᴍɪɴɪ ᴅʀᴇss ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴠᴇʀᴀ ᴡᴀɴɢ- ᴘʀᴏᴘᴏsɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʀ ᴀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴏᴜʀ ᴛᴏᴘ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛs. ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴅᴇʟɪʟᴀʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɪᴅᴇɴ ᴀʀᴇ ᴘʙᴇ (ᴘᴜʀᴇ ʙʀᴇᴇᴅ ᴇʟɪᴛᴇs. ᴡʜᴇɴ ʙᴏᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ/ ᴏʀ ɢʀᴀɴᴅᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛs, ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴏʀɴ ᴇʟɪᴛᴇ). ᴅᴇʟɪʟᴀʜ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ-ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ɢʀᴀɴᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ᴏғ ғʀᴀɴᴋʟɪɴ ʀᴏᴏsᴇᴠᴇʟᴛ ɪɪ + ᴇᴛʜᴇʟ ᴅᴜᴘᴏɴᴛ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴀɪᴅᴇɴ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴏᴜɴɢᴇsᴛ sᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴀᴍsᴄʜᴇʟ ʀᴏᴛʜsᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴɪᴛᴀ ᴘᴀᴛɪᴇɴᴄᴇ ɢᴜɪɴɴᴇss. ᴀɪᴅᴇɴ's ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ɪs ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴀʀʀʏɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴇǫᴜᴀʟ sᴛᴀᴛᴜs. ᴛᴡᴏ ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴏʟᴅᴇʀ sɪsᴛᴇʀs ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏʟᴅsᴍɪᴛʜ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ, (ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴋᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴄʀᴇᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴜᴘ) ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ғᴇᴡ ʏᴇᴀʀs ᴀɢᴏ ʜɪs ᴏʟᴅᴇʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ ɴɪᴄᴋʏ ʜɪʟᴛᴏɴ. ᴀɪᴅᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇʟɪʟᴀʜ ᴍᴇᴛ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ᴘᴇɴɴsʏʟᴠᴀɴɪᴀ (ᴀɴ ɪᴠʏ!) ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇ ɪɴ ᴘʜɪʟᴀᴅᴇʟᴘʜɪᴀ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴘᴏsᴛᴇʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ғᴏʀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀ sᴏᴄɪᴇᴛʏ 'ɪᴛ ᴄᴏᴜᴘʟᴇ'. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ sᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀʀʀʏ ᴛʜɪs ᴀᴜᴛᴜᴍɴ ʜᴇʀᴇ ɪɴ ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴏʀᴋ. ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴜʀᴇ ᴇʟɪᴛᴇs ᴏғ ᴏᴜʀ sᴏᴄɪᴀʟ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

ᴅᴇʟɪʟᴀʜ ᴅᴜᴘᴏɴᴛ , ᴀɪᴅᴇɴ ʀᴏᴛʜsᴄʜɪʟᴅ , ᴅᴏᴍɪɴɪᴄ ᴅᴜᴘᴏɴᴛ , ᴅᴀᴘʜɴᴇ ᴅᴜᴘᴏɴᴛ , ᴀᴜsᴛɪɴ ʀᴏᴏsᴇᴠᴇʟᴛ , ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍ ʜɪʟᴛᴏɴ, ɢɪᴀɴᴀ ʜɪʟᴛᴏɴ, ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ʜɪʟᴛᴏɴ ʜᴇɴʀʏ ʙᴀss

Yale's Sergio Rossi boots clicked in unison with her best friend Gigi's heels as they marched into the Park Central hotel. There were two girls with a mission. One had long, wavy blonde hair, full pink lips and disgusting floral printed pants that the other begged her to trash. _She_ didn't, because they're 'Chloé' and they both loved Chloé. The other, had a tight, high ponytail that thankfully distracted her mind from the many things that were swirling above. Yale was constantly thought of as 'self centered' she tried to step asside of herself and give her best friend the lime light - not that Gigi ever needed anyone to _give_ her anything. Especially not attention. The glossy wood floor of the 4-star hotel showed the reflection of the teenage girls that made Yale wish she could flip the scenery to a Sepia filter. It'd been perfect. The brunette smirked as she approached the front desk. Amidst the confident demand that Yale planned in her head, making sure they got all of the information they needed on Gigi's mystery male, the older gentleman at the front desk declared their attention. "You!" The man, Mr. Micheals, according to his name tag yelled in a way that Yale hadn't heard since her father found out she had been having sex with her boyfriend Prince. It took her back for a second and she was mortified to the point of tears. Internal tears, ofcourse.

"Me?" Yale rose her eyebrow before she was quickly dismissed. Mr. Micheals scoffed in disgust and the sound snapped her out of everything she was feeling in the moment. Now, she was just prepared to give the man hell.

"Not you, buttercup. Your friend." Ofcourse, Yale was being yelled at for trouble that Gigi caused. Typical.

"You need to fix your tone." Yale spoke sternly. The facial expression she made, let the man know that she meant business and his reaction told her that he got it.

"You and your boy toy made so much noise that we had to refund two deluxe rooms. _Deluxe_."

"So?" Gigi asked. Yale on the other hand, was just impressed.

"So?" Mr. Micheals looked like he lived in a basement. Maybe the hotel basement. His bifocal frames made Yale think that he searched for things to complain about daily and Gigi was his current fix. He was probably ecstatic he could complain about her to her face, though he didn't have the balls to actually say much because he knew his place in society. Two teenage girls could own him. "What did he send you to pick up his wallet or something?"

"Wha-"

"What's taking you so long?" Yale cut in. Sure, she expected more sloothing, she didn't think finding a guy that they knew nothing about would come that easily but most things did come easily for them. "Do you think we actually wanted to see you?" Mr. Micheals fought an eyeroll. Yale could tell his skin was boiling. Yale loved having the upper hand over people. It was a power trip for her. She watched as the man reached into the desk and pull out a Saint Laurent wallet. It was subtle and designer. Yale already liked him. "Everything had better be here." Yale stated as an alibi for searching though a wallet that clearly wasn't hers. The girls inched away from the front desk and Yale could feel her best friend hovering over her shoulder.

"He's hot, right?" Gigi gushed and Yale had to agree. She personally liked blondes, but Gigi was blonde so a guy with dark hair would suit her.

"He's 5'11", honey, that's all I needed to see." Yale grinned. She wasn't as bold or adventurous as Gigi was. She wished she had an exciting love story, or an exciting one night stand with a tall, dark and handsome male. But instead, her story was practical. "He lives on the Upper East Side." Yale spoke smoothly. "East 76th,"

"Oh, he's rich _rich."_ Gigi smirked. "What's his name?"

"Lorenzo Cali."

Ordering UberX instead of using a personal driver didn't sit well with Yale, but of course Gigi insisted they keep a low profile. Sure, it made sense considering that everyone could recognize any of their families cars in a line up. The price to being rich and famous. Even though they were no longer twelve year olds and their Chloe glasses didn't actually hide their identities, they liked to think on days like this they were spies like Charlie's Angels- or in this case, Enzo's Angels. This was a mission. The curious case of the mystery man that had been on Gigi's mind for an entire day. Yale had to see this. The car pulled up to a townehouse that looked lavish enough as she thought about it, Yale realized they must've walked past the property a million times in their Manhattan lifetime and yet she never remembered walking past a Lorenzo Cali. "You gonna go knock?"

"Me?" Yale flashed back to her encounter with Mr. Micheals a half hour ago. She could sense the nervousness in Gigi but Gigi was never this girl. She was an icon. This was Fifth Avenue. Her territory. "Why me?"

"You're telling me that you can knock boots with this guy, but you don't have the balls to knock on his door?" Yale asked in disbelief. "Tell him you accidentally grabbed his wallet when you left." Yale held the Saint Laurent and dangled it in Gigi's face. Gigi watched it as if it were a string of yarn and she were a kitten. Her green eyes dropped from the Saint Laurent to Yale's eyes challenging her.

"Come with me."

"Why?"

"You're my way out if he doesn't answer. Or if he doesn't remember."

"Shut up." Yale shook her head. Her eyes had been glued to the property the entire time, trying to get a feel for the property, for this guy and his family. He didn't make Gossip Girls list of true elites, but most of them didn't. However, he didn't make any Gossip Girl posts, which was actually pretty strange. As the girls contemplated, the door to the townehouse was opened only they didn't see a broad, tall dark and handsome seventeen year old. They saw a tan, beautiful girl carrying a red Givenchy bag and wearing a La Pearla lace teddy like it was a t-shirt. "What is that bitch doing here?" Yale scoffed though it made sense. Two mysterious people at one event couldn't be a coincidence. The 'silks star' had to be Lorenzo's sister and things just got interesting.

Being on Fifth Avenue with another girl was risky for Prince. Even though he didn't know exactly where his girlfriend, Yale-Rose was, he knew she was with her bestfriend, his sister, which meant Fifth Avenue was on the itinerary. The blonde also knew he couldn't say no to Abigail and he actually didn't want to. She wasn't breed in the Upper East Side, which meant she wasn't like _them_. He was in the presence of an actual princess confirming to her family tree, and yet he felt like he could be one hundred percent himself. Already, when he was around her he didn't feel crushed by their egos or their status. He was just on a date with a beautiful girl. "Honestly, this is the best day I've had in a while. Well, I mean, since yesterday." He grinned nervously. Prince had a few things to be anxious about. He felt like there were eyes everywhere, for one. Even though he was pretty much used to having eyes on him it didn't exactly feel good when he didn't want to be seen. Abigail's tiny hands reached over to caress him and he felt the weight of the world fall off his shoulders. It only lasted a few seconds since he was already filled with guilt. Prince knew he was inlove with Yale. They had always been inlove as long as he could remember and even though they had been through a lot, he couldn't remember a time where he actually wanted another girl. Until now.

"Really?" Abigail's blue eyes glimmered as she watched him sweetly. Everything between them was happening better than she had thought. Prince was exactly what she hoped he'd be and exactly what she wanted. The butterflies wouldn't stop. "Why is that?" She rose her eyebrow at his statement. His life was perfect. Sure, there were hiccups like the Manhattan societies workings, and the disappearance of his younger brother. However, his life surely had more good then bad. Prince looked up at her, he had already told Abigail so much about himself, he said what he could before the Upper East Side wrapped it's hands around her. Prince sat back and took another sip of his tea, looking down at Fifth Avenue. Everything was going so fast. Up on the balcony with Abigail was at a standstill.

"That stuff doesn't matter." Prince smiled and bit his lip. "Not when I'm with you." He smiled. Abigail leaned in, and he prepared himself for a kiss until he realized she was only fixing the collar of his shirt. He couldn't help himself. Prince tried his best to be a good guy, or atleast have that reputation. He had loved Yale Rockefeller since they were younger, and he thought he still loved her until he met Abigail. She wasn't the first girl he thought about outside of his relationship but she was the first one he was out in public with. At this very moment, he was putting himself out there to risk it all and maybe it a split second he thought it was worth it. Abigail smiled brightly and slid her hands down his chest, smiling back up at him which could honestly make him melt.

"Now that I know exactly where he lives, and since it _is_ near Fifth Ave, I can casually walk past and see him outside. It can be ... organic. Right?" Gigi danced around casually, trying to muster up the courage to actually knock on Mr. Lorenzo Cali's front door.

"Yeah." Yale trailed off as she watched the girls every movement. Now that the trail ended on Lorenzo Cali, she had her sights on public enemy number one and was determined to knock the girl down a few notches before she even bothered to climb the social ladder. As she thought for a moment, she heard a _ding_ from her cellphone.

 **Mommy Dearest** _via iMessages_

 _Carolina Herrera, want anything?_

"Well, my mom is at CH. Wanna meet up with her?" She asked and watched her best friends face light up. Maybe it was because she didn't grow up under the watchful eye of society and instead got to live a wild, socialite life in Hollywood but Angela Rockefeller had been dubbed the coolest mom in the Upper East Side. She was much more like a best friend than a mother. In fact, she was literally just like Yale's best friend, Gigi which was why the blonde never missed an opportunity to be around her vs. her own mother.

"Duh," Gigi nodded. "Maybe she can give me advice on what to do about this guy. She _did_ snag herself a Rockefeller. My mom couldn't even do that."

"Well let's be lucky she didn't because incest is much more of a Roosevelt family thing." Yale pretended to gag. Ofcourse she saw her best friend as a sister, and when she got to marry Prince Hilton they actually would be sisters. So the idea of being Gigi's biological sister or cousin if Jessica Buckley ended up with one of the Rockefeller men, was too much to handle.

"Well while we're at it, we should get Kappo Masa for dinner." Gigi nodded down to the opposite way that they were walking.

"This guy seriously lives next to everything. And the outside of his house is gorgeous. I wonder if my mom has ever been inside." Yale spoke as they turned the corner of 76th making their way to 75th. Aside from being the 'coolest mother' in the Upper East Side, she was the most coveted interior designer in the Upper East Side and a home right off of Fifth Avenue needed the best interior.

"Well that's another question for Angie." Gigi winked as they made their way through their stomping grounds. As the two girls span the corner with their heads held high, the brunette caught a sight for very sore eyes. _Her_ boyfriend, with her lips intertwined with another _blonde haired girl._ As Gigi spoke, Yale tried not to look but she couldn't help it. She was named after one of the most elite University's in the country. She is one of the most elite girls in the country and her eyes were not deceiving her.

"Angie knows all." Yale didn't break her concentration or her gaze as she tried to figure out what was going on. For atleast a year, their were rumors of her boyfriend Prince's infidelity. Now the rumors were manifested right before her eyes. And right on Fifth Avenue.

* * *

 **Which characters are your favorites so far? Which storylines are you most excited about?**

 **All feedback is welcome. I literally need it!**


	5. MAHSURI'S BURNBOOK

**"Just like the mob, New York prep schools have their own five families." Gossip Girl**

 **ʜᴛᴛᴘs:/xᴏxᴏ-ᴛʜᴇғɪᴠᴇ.ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ.ᴄᴏᴍ** _  
_

ᴅɪsᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ: ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟ ɴᴀᴍᴇs ᴏғ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇs, ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ᴀʙʙʀᴇᴠɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴛ. ɴᴀᴍᴇʟʏ, ᴍᴇ.

ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡs ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴄʜᴏᴏsᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴄʜᴏᴏsᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs. ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ʀᴜʟᴇᴅ ʙʏ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ʟɪɴᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴀɴᴋ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴜɴᴛs, ɪᴛ ᴘᴀʏs ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴀʟ. ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ᴡɪᴛʜ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴄᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ." —ɢᴏssɪᴘ ɢɪʀʟ

* * *

Mahsuri ran her index finger along the soft lace of her La Perla bra. As she watched her reflection in the mirror, her sleek bob, her natural plump pout, and the fearfulness of what she was doing, she thought back on all the decisions she had made. Starting with the $200 brunch she fronted on Monday at the BlueBox Cafe because she couldn't give the Queens the satisfaction of paying for her. Then the red velvet Gucci purse she purchased at Neimans due to her depression, she almost forgot she couldn't afford retail therapy and she almost cared. Instead she held her head high leaving the department store, smiling at the paparazzi as she breezed by. She was an icon of this generation of elites. Why should she change that because her fathers greed and bad habits caught up with him. It had been a few months since her fathers arrest for fraud and embezzlement. His only daughter had no idea what it meant. She had mistaken her fathers crimes for 'embellishment' before the seize snapped her back into the dark reality that was her life. Michael Yeoh was snatched away before the family could have breakfast while the Yeoh girls were tossed out of the Waldorf and onto the streets just in time for brunch. Yeoh hid money, and sent some to their family bank in China which made Suri feel safe until she realized she and her mother weren't entitled to any of it. Suri could get hers when she turned eighteen. In two years. Now Suri was preparing for what she'd do in the mean time and thinking about the decision she made the day before. The one who got her back where she belonged, the Wu Wing of the Waldorf Astoria.

 **\- THE NIGHT BEFORE -**

Mahsuri sat one one of the white couches of Austin Roosevelt's apartment. She made the excuse of pregaming to get dressed in his new place, but in reality, getting glam in the service bathroom of the WA was depressing considering the fact that she once lived on the highest floor. She and Austin had both had a rough summer. The two had always been close but now they were inseparable. Austin had recently been cut off by his family and Suri was the only one who understood what he was dealing with, not that their peers seemed to care. Neither of them had heard from their childhood friends except when it benefited them. The girls invited Suri out, just to brag about how well off they were and the luxuries of a care free summer. One of the Rockefeller twins texted Austin about drugs and ghosted right after. But atleast they had eachother. Austin, also had members of a new family he joined. _The Gambinos_. They were the most ruthless and notorious mafia in the United States and Austin left his aristocracy to join them. Work for them. He claimed, that they kept him safe, and fed. Austin showed off the car they bought him, the money he made since joining and that his life was back on track but all Suri could see was that her best friend was moving illegal drugs for the mafia. As Austin 'prepped' the girl for the dinner party they were attending, Suri adjusted her cleavage in her form fitting, sequin dress and did something else she really didn't want to do, posing for an Instagram sponsorship. She needed the money that bad. Atleast the House of CB dress she wore looked amazing on her. "Aussie, are you sure about this?"

"Suri." Austin scoffed. "It's a dinner party at his house. They do them like, every week and said I can invite you." The male pleaded. "You always get worried about them, they aren't bad people." Austin defended. He was always defending them.

"They're murderers." Suri spoke up.

"They do what they have to do." Austin corrected. He stood infront of her in silence as she adjusted his tie. It was their routine. All Suri wanted was for Austin to be happy and right now he was. But, there was a price to being in bed with the mob and she didn't want him to end up paying for it. For almost 10 years her father had been tied up into illegal activities. He harbored the same trait that Austin did, greed. And like her father, Austin thought he was untouchable. MaSuri learned it the hard way, no one could be untouchable. Suri stayed quiet and stayed to herself climbing into Austin's lime Lamborghini, that she personally liked to refer to as 'the gift'. Austin spoke, and hummed along to music while Suri thought about the current state of her own life. Living in her Benz with her mother pretending to keep up with elites. She almost started to cry before she realized the car stopped on Fifth Ave. The historic Clarence Whitman Mansion, to be exact. Suri rose her eyebrow while Austin offered his hand to help her out.

" _They_ live here?"

"Obviously." Austin rolled his eyes. He put his hands on her lower back and guided her up the front staircase. They knocked on the grand door and a male their age answered. Based on Austin's description and stories, she imagined him to be Lorenzo Cali, Austin's boss, second only to his father. He had piercing green eyes, tan skin and amazing teeth. But his hands were huge. Like he could break someones neck barley flexing. They were also covered in tattoos. There was something else that was familiar about him. She had seen him before. As the male walked them through the door, accompanying them with the lavish estate. The rooms got louder, the crowd got bigger and the home smelled better then Del Posto. All while Suri was trying to figure out where she had seen him before. Girls, also their age, walked around carrying trays of both red and white wine. None of this was what she expected, but Austin did tell her that the mafia was an entirely different society. The night went on and Suri just people watched. Mostly Austin, seeing him interact with his new family. Austin actually did fit right in. The guys were smoking cigars, betting, rolling dice and laughing. Like they actually enjoyed eachothers company. Not in the petty way that she was used to. The girls were gorgeous. Exotic beauties. It didn't seem like they were trying. Suri mixed her percs with her Pinot Noir, which made her feel heavenly while she waited on Austin. She was in another one of her dazes. This one was peaceful. And broken apart by the scent of cigar smoke mixed with Versace cologne.

"You look like you're enjoying yourself." Suri heard a hearty chuckle and an accent she thought was just for the movies. It was Lorenzo Cali, sitting directly next to her, with his arm around her chair.

"You know," Suri grinned seductively. "I actually am."

"You're the Park Avenue princess Austin talks about." Enzo spoke as if he was _telling_ her who she was. Suri was born a Park Avenue Princess. "The YTL heiress."

"Well not anymore." Suri thought about everything. She actually thought she wouldn't have to deal with her issues until tomorrow morning.

"Technically you are." Suri knitted her eyebrows as Salvatore talked. "Your father still owns the company. And he's still the CEO." Suri looked away from the tan male. Away at no one in particular. How could her father still own the business when she and her mother were forced out on their asses with no money at all? She could be in her luxury suite, instead she was living in the parking lot. "New money," Enzo expressed, in the same tone that the Upper East Siders said it. _Who the hell did he think he was?_

"How do you know that?"

"I wouldn't invite someone to my house without doing my research." Now, everything felt personal. She thought she was a plus one, instead she was targeted. But why? Lorenzo sat up, and pushed his dark hair out of his face scanning the room for a moment. "I think I know more about you then he does." He gestured to Austin, who seemed to be having a good enough time. Enzo didn't say anything specific but she knew exactly what he was referring to. "I have a proposition for you." He said smoothly, and she stood up almost immediately letting him lead the way. Everyone in society believed she still lived at the Waldorf. If Lorenzo was right and her father was still the owner of the company, meaning _she_ was still rich - it only answered why no one was questioning her. Suri took Enzo's hand and followed him though the halls of the estate, landing on the pool room. The walls and floor were marble and the pool was amazing. Salvatore sat on the white couches while Suri stood on the wall. The first question Suri had was what could he have to offer her? The second was, what didn't he have. His confidence exuded. It was the sort of confidence that the UES girls pretended to have. A powerful man was way more intimidating than a rich clique of girls with matching Gucci bags. "You're just like him." Enzo pointed out. " _Roosevelt._ " He added. "Struggling to maintain this lifestyle and these appearances. I can help you like I helped him."

"You suggesting I sell drugs?"

"Drugs?" Lorenzo chuckled slightly. "I have more than one business." Enzo cut her off quickly before she could even think another thought. "You look like you could fit right in with venture number two." Enzo spoke. He watched her as if he was undressing her with his eyes. She was all to familiar with the look. Enzo grabbed a remote and turned on the TV in the pool area, cutting his eye back at her while she stood. "You ever heard of the FDS?" He asked, leaning back on the couch. Enzo rose his eyebrow as Suri shook her head and gestured for her to come closer. "Come on, I just wanna talk business."

"Fine." Suri uttered and sat next to the male. "What's the FDS?"

"A gang. A Chinese gang that I want to dismember."

"Well I don't know them." Suri watched Lorenzo. What was his point?

"Plain and simple, you look like the type of girl that can get me close enough to BoWave, the leader." Enzo stated. "You're hot, and everyone knows you like a good time. You show up in Chinatown at their nightclub, it won't raise any flags. You bringing him back to the WA, won't raise any flags and if I happen to be there then I take care of the rest."

"So you want me to seduce a gang member so you can kill him?" Suri blinked. He was serious. "What if this gang comes for me? I'm Chinese royalty and I'm a siting fucking duck at The Waldorf!" The girl gasped at his nerve. "Hell, I don't even have a room at the Waldorf."

"You do this, you'll have a wing at the Waldorf. You'll be family, and you'll be protected by us." Lorenzo assured her, he rubbed his lips together, running his index finger gently down her back, making her shiver. " _Protected by me_."

"What about the girls out there?" Suri asked referring to the girls she had seen earlier. They were too pretty to be in the mob but she could tell they were apart of the family.

"Any Italian in Chinatown would raise flags." Lorenzo explained. "Those girls are for the fathers of your society friends when they get bored of their wives. This proposition is a one night thing, unless you want in on venture number two." Suri added up what she was saying and shook her head.

"I'm not having sex with him,"

"You have sex with strangers for free though, right?" Lorenzo rose the question. Honestly, the venture was looked down on but he didn't see the issue. Enzo Cali had ties and investments in drugs, prostitution, bets and other illegal activities that he knew for a fact every Upper East Sider participated in. They were all in the palms of his hands. "Atleast according to that Gossip Girl." _Gossip Girl._ That's where she saw him. Leaving 'Kiss' with Giselle Hilton hanging on his arms. "You can let me know by the end of the party."

 **\- PRESENT DAY -**

Suri decided that she needed to gain control of her life again. She was an icon living. She was reminded of that as soon as she walked into the GoldBar. Every single girl and guy held on to her every word. These people didn't follow trends from Yale Rockefeller or Gigi Hilton, they were her people and they all wanted to be as fabulous as Suri. Her status caught the attention of her target within minutes. BoWave was extremely attractive. The culture in the club when Bo was around,was similar to the culture in the mansion when Lorenzo was with his 'family'. It made her want to spare BoWave. If she didn't fear what the Gambino's had up their sleeve for her, she'd probably see if BoWave was as powerful as Lorenzo Cali to match his offer. She doubted it. She did as Enzo instructed and was hard to get, yet irresistible. She eventually caved in and allowed Bo to take advantage in the best way. He led her to his Benz, she instructed the driver of the directions to the WA between moans and making out. They hadn't even pulled up to the hotel and Bo's hands were cold between her thighs, snaking to get past her underwear. "We're here." Suri pulled away, adjusting her dress. Lorenzo gave no instructions about the paparazzi but it seemed like they all wanted to catch Suri's Saturday Night best. Suri guided the driver to the garage entrance and made her way through the way she normally would when she was sneaking back in from her parents. As she exited Bo's car, she noticed her own Benz. The shades were down over the windows but the faint light coming from behind it said that her mother was 'home'. She wouldn't have to do this much longer. The girl walked through the hallways freely, greeting those she knew before sliding out the key to the wing that Salvatore claimed would be hers. Suri turned to BoWave and smiled slightly, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Just let me go ... freshen up alittle." She smirked. Bo's hands went from her butt, up to her mouth taking a taste of his fingers. "You're already fresh enough."

"Well, I wanna put on something sexier."

"Sexier than the dress?" BoWave bit his lips. His mind wandered onto her body and she felt a pinge of regret.

"Go to the bedroom." Suri spoke pointing down the hall. Truthfully, she had never been in this 'wing' so she had no idea where anything aside from the first bathroom was. The first bathroom was meant to be her 'hiding' spot when everything happened. She found the lingerie set she was 'slipping' into, and a burner phone to call Enzo. Suri took one last look at herself and dialed a text to Lorenzo. Almost immediately, she heard the door being burst down, and gunshots flying. She had been instructed to start crying at the 'que' and make it believable. It was real. She couldn't believe it had happened. As the guns were going off, she threw the burner phone out of the bathroom for the guys to grab and used her iPhone to call the police. "H-Hello! Hello." Suri cried. "I think someone is trying to rob me. I don't know. I don't know. Waldorf Astoria. My daddy lives here with me and he's in jail now." Suri's breathing got heavy. What if they decided to kill her too. She was a witness and then Lorenzo wouldn't owe her anything. "I'm in the bathroom. I locked the door but my friend is in the other room!" The brunette panicked, sitting on the bathroom floor as she tried to keep her cool. After she tossed the burner phone she only got a glimpse of BoWave and he didn't seem to be waking up anytime soon. The room fell silent and Suri waited five minutes until the cops came to the wing. The slim girl ran out of the bathroom in her lingerie and straight into the arms of the most attractive cop she saw in the group - hysterically crying. "I was only gone for two seconds! What if they wanted to find me?! I can't stay here I-"

"Ms. Yeoh," The male interrupted her. "We're going to get you covered and answer a few questions. You don't have to worry about safety, we'll make sure you and your mother are safe." Mahsuri watched the NYPD with little certainty of their statement and if a life of luxury was really worth getting in bed with the mob- something she had just criticized Austin for only a few hours ago. _Austin,_ Mahsuri's best friend who had no idea what the past few weeks of her life had become and that it led to this. He was probably worried sick. And her mother. And the press. And Gossip Girl.


	6. GIRL, DISRUPTED (2019)

_Gᴏʀɢᴇᴏᴜꜱ ɢɪʀʟꜱ ɪɴ ᴄᴏᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ ɢᴏᴡɴꜱ. Aʟʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ᴛᴇᴇᴛʜ, ꜱʜɪᴍᴍᴇʀɪɴɢ ʜᴀɪʀ, ғᴜʟʟ ʟɪᴘꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ʀᴜɴᴡᴀʏ ϙᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ. Tʜᴇɪʀ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇ. Tʜᴇɪʀ ᴊᴇᴡᴇʟꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʙʟɪɴᴅɪɴɢ. Tʜᴇɪʀ ᴄᴀʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ғᴀꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ғᴜʀɪᴏᴜꜱ. Aɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴇʟɪᴛᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛꜱ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴅᴀᴡɴ. Wʜɪᴛᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ, ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ. Dᴇꜱɪɢɴᴇʀ ꜱʜᴏᴇꜱ, ᴅᴇꜱɪɢɴᴇʀ ᴅʀᴜɢꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʟɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʟᴜxᴇ, ʀᴜᴍᴏʀꜱ, ᴇɴᴠʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘʟᴇɴᴅᴏʀ. Sᴏᴄɪᴀʟɪᴛᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇʙᴜᴛᴀɴᴛᴇꜱ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴄᴏᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀᴜᴛᴇ ᴊᴏᴀɪʟʟᴇʀɪᴇ._

 **TRIGGER WARNING. GRAPHIC VIOLENCE DESCRIPTION.**

* * *

ᴅɪsᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ: ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟ ɴᴀᴍᴇs ᴏғ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇs, ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ᴀʙʙʀᴇᴠɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴛ. ɴᴀᴍᴇʟʏ, ᴍᴇ.

Gossip Girl here, your one and only source into the scandalous lives of Manhattan's elite, rich and famous.

 _Even though it's a glamorous Sunday morning, sex, lies and scandal never rest on the Upper East Side. Just ask S, who's one night stand just turned into a robbery and murder investigation and is the top story in the Times, The Journal and you guessed it, Gossip Girl. If you think MahSuri's date night gone wrong was just a mishap, you haven't been living here long enough. And if you know anything about the people she just got in bed with – then you know the Upper East Side just got more interesting._

* * *

Yale Rockefeller sighed taking a deep breath as she finally decided to emerge from the luxury that was her canopy bed and her 400 thread count pink satin sheets. The girls Saturday night - as well as Sunday morning, had been spent in tears that flowed like Plitvice. She held them in throughout her entire dinner at Kappo Masa. And even kept silent during the second shopping trip the girls endured, after calling Jessica Buckley - Giselle's mother, to join. She also stayed silent the ride home. However, once she was safe and sound in the privacy of her wing in the home, the levees broke. The levees collapsed like her heart did and now there was nothing left but dust. Just like her relationship with Prince Hilton. Ofcourse she heard the rumors of Prince's infidelity. But, every powerful couple had to deal with others preying on their downfall. Yale hoped they were different. Or that he was different. She hoped that Prince loved her as much as she loved him. Or, atleast enough not to betray and embarrass her. On fifth avenue at that? If he had nothing else - Prince definitely had the _audacity_. Yale had been under the impression that Prince's Saturday morning consisted of lacrosse practices, workouts and interning with the mayor, Nathaniel Archibald at his offices. And the girl took him not calling or texting as a sign of him securing their future and being just busy. Sure, he was _**busy**_. With some blonde haired slut. Everyone under the Manhattan sun knew that Prince was a taken man. This girl clearly didn't know who she was messing with.

"Yale." Angela Rockefeller peaked around her daughters bedroom door. Normally Yale would be up, out of bed and ready for the world. She would've enjoyed her breakfast, as well as lunch and probably be gushing over her older cousin Ariana's lush new job. Instead, she had Ariana Grande. Since 'Honeymoon Avenue' was playing throughout the house - to show how sad she was. "Prince is here." Angela cracked a smile. This was the first time that Yale didn't run kicking and screaming into her mothers arms, because she knew that telling Angela would make it all real. She confided in her mother when their were rumors about Prince but now that she knew... she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. "You uh... do you wanna see him?" Angela mumbled, looking at her daughter. She didn't know today's crisis but she knew that Prince was public enemy number one. Yale took a long pause. One that made her mother question if she even heard her, before the girl parted her glossed lips.

"Tell him I'm coming down." Yale instructed and watched her mother shut the door. The girl stood on her heels and slid into her YSL ostrich feather shoes, adjusting her cleavage in her teddy and effortlessly letting her Coco de Mer robe fall off of her petite shoulders. She dabbed extra Givency gloss on her lips and glided towards the stairwell, posing as she watched Prince admire her from below. He did love her, right? You only swap spit with those who you love - and she was unfortunately rewarded a live presentation of what Prince did when he didn't think she was looking. _Blondes,_ to be precise. Prince was holding a bouquet of pink roses that had better been accompanied with a Tiffany box and a puppy dog face if he wanted her to even consider speaking with him.

"Wow." Prince glanced down at Yale's perfect physique. Her face was porcelain and her eyes were sparkling. She was perfect and sexy and she knew it which was something that Prince either liked or grew annoyed with depending on his own mood in the moment. Now he just felt ... sick. Prince knew Yale wouldn't do the things he did to her. She wouldn't even ghost him and maybe he was getting in his own head when the thoughts about their history vs their image came about. Yes. At times, his relationship with Yale felt more like a job, or an elite arrangement but there was love between them. He knew it. "Yale I-" **SLAP!** Yale's hands swiftly moved through the thyme scented air of the Rockefeller manor and Yale didn't know what came faster, the shock on Prince's face or the bruise.

"I saw you." Yale said with a straight face. It was all she said. Hell, it was all she needed to say. Prince Hilton had better been suffocated with guilt through-out the entire night making it difficult for him to think of anything else. Making it obvious what she saw. Judging by Prince's face, he would spent the next few minutes, maybe hours, pretending he didn't know what she was referring to. How many times did they have this conversation? How many of those times were based on truth, instead of Yale over reacting over rumors? "On a balcony over fifth avenue with some slut?! I saw you!" Yale's voice cracked when she yelled. It made her angry, before Prince could plead his case, the girl pushed him into the Sylvan Hand-Painted Faux Bois Console her mother had just bought. Her father hated it. He claimed it was juvenile though Angela was the professional in the interior field.

"Yale I?"

"What happened?" She yelled, again. "What did I do?" Yale Rockefeller fought her tears. She hated feeling so vulnerable and weak. And god damn emotional. She never even bought waterproof mascara because she wasn't a 'crybaby ass bitch', as Giselle Hilton so eloquently put it during a few conversations over cocktails. "You clearly haven't been happy and I'm sick of trying to obtain this when you're literally just doing whatever not even caring about how I feel."

"I care how you feel." Prince cut in. "And I'm sorry. I don't know what I was looking for." Prince pushed his hair out of his face. "It's not you, it's me."

"Oh so fucking original Prince!" Yale snatched the roses from Prince's hands, just to throw them back in his face. "Where's my Tiffany's?"

"What?"

"My Tiffany's! And my fucking apology! You owe me that."

"I," Prince scoffed, shaking his head and dusting the fallen rose petals off of his DSQUARED2 pixel shirt. "Is that what you're concerned about?"

"Are you kidding me?" Yale gasped. "You should be on your knees right now! Begging me." She screamed. "I love you."

"I love you too Yale." Prince bit his lips.

"But you don't love me enough." Prince didn't speak for a moment. He took a seat on the staircase and reached for Yale's hands. Yale knew what this was. She didn't think she'd ever have to do this. Yale and Prince were supposed to be endgame. It was what made sense on the Upper East Side. "I met - a girl."

"I need her name." Yale's ankle shook almost in anger. She would destroy this girl. And Prince knew it. _He was protecting the bitch._

 _"Yale..."_ Prince looked at her with his Tiffany box blue eyes and her heart broke. "I met her at 'Kiss' and I don't think I've ever felt like that." He admitted. "Not since we were kids. I love you, I do but I know I haven't been in it for a while and you deserve better." He looked at the girl, sighing slightly.

* * *

Beatrix Calì adjusted the bow of her RACIL sun lounge blazer as she stood in front of her vanity mirror. Summer was knocking on her balcony window and her Fenty Trophy Wife highlighter and body shimmer topped off her Italian sun goddess vibes. Truthfully, no one in BX's family understood why she was trying for an internship at the Department of Justice. In her family, everyone always got whatever they wanted. They didn't try, they just took it. The Calì's and the Gambino association were always on the wrong side of the law and Beatrix was just the princess in the middle of it. Ofcourse when you grow up in a family business, you find a certain fascination with it. However, this wasn't some 'mom and pop' oil company or whatever else her Upper East Side peers were building up to, this was American crime. Everything illegal that happened in the city went through her family. And she wasn't about to start pushing drugs to the tune of Lana Del Rey. But, she was interested in the inner workings of American law. The RACIL trousers were alittle too light and frilly for Beatrix's taste - she was into lace and bondage as a fashion statement, but it looked pretty enough. Beatrix flattened her pin-straight hair, perfecting the part in the middle before glossing her lips. The girl was more than a force. She was a full on firecracker and even though she was born in the city, she thought it was finally time to take the city by storm.

"Am I driving you?" Beatrix's older brother, Lorenzo, knocked on her door frame, looking into her bedroom. Beatrix's blonde Australian shepherd ran over to her brother, playfully scratching at his ankles. Dolce, her puppy, was a gift from her older brother Lorenzo who was big and bad to anyone and everyone - aside from her. Lorenzo was the boss. He was only nineteen years old and was under their father Frank's wing all the way down to his death only a month ago, which was the reason Lorenzo bought Dolce. He hated to see his baby sister cry. It may be morbid or plain sick but being the child of a mafia family desensitized them to pretty much everything. She knew her brother was just as hurt as she was. Their father was their best friend. Beatrix heard horrible stories from others who's families were less than perfect but the Calì's were. She knew Lorenzo couldn't show it. At some point they all knew he'd be promoted to 'man of the house' and now was his time.

"You gonna drive me to the Department of Justice?" Beatrix teased, giggling slightly. "You might burst into flames." The girl smiled at her older brother. Beatrix knew that her father supported her career choice. And her mother, Celine Corrao, was a mafia house wife who was proud of her daughter for actually working towards a career in general.

"If I can handle the catholic church I can handle the NYPD." Lorenzo assured her. "I'm surprised they're even considering you." Enzo spoke honestly. "But I am proud of you." He admitted. Enzo was always a second father to Beatrix even though he was only two years older than her, he had the trait that every Italian man had, to be the protector of his family.

"I'm the best thing that could ever happen to those offices." Beatrix assured her brother with a smirk. "I'm ready though." The girl spoke, watching her brother lift the small dog, petting him slightly. Beatrix grabbed her MMK briefcase and her Forever Fendi sunglasses as she shimmied past her brother and down the grand-staircase. Usually her staff prepared breakfast and her brother prepared dinner for the family. The _full_ family. As Beatrix waltzed down the staircase, she was greeted by her mother who was beaming from ear to ear.

"You look so adorable, Piccolinoa." Celine reached her arms out and hugged her daughter. Beatrix was beautiful, but Celine was drop dead gorgeous. She was what Beatrix had to look forward to, her mother was literally a spitting image of herself and she knew it was bittersweet for her mother that Lorenzo was a duplicate of her late husband. "Like a little lawyer."

"I'm not adorable." Beatrix scoffed, though she cracked a smile at her mother, giving her cheek kisses before her brother hovered over the two women, kissing his mother on the forehead.

"Where are you going?" Celine blinked, grabbing her sons wrist. Throughout the last month, Celine became more over-protective. Especially when it came to Lorenzo. He was in the same business as his father and Lorenzo was also a showboat. Her brother was a show-off and a bit of a celebrity in comparison to the way their father did things. Even after their fathers death, Lorenzo was being very public with his doings between the shoot-out at the Waldorf Astoria and being on the arm of 'Little Miss Heiress' as Beatrix liked to refer to Lorenzo's latest hook up.

"I'm taking BX to her interview." Lorenzo said simply as if he didn't understand his mothers displacement.

"At the department of justice?!" Celine rose her eyebrow in disgust. "No, you've already been in the media enough, you want to walk directly to the valley of the shadow of death?! Are you insane. Your father was just ..."

"We're handling that." Lorenzo said sternly. He had his own affairs he had to settle but what happened to his father, on their property will be avenged if he had to die for it.

"They arrested Comello," Celine started and once again Lorenzo cut his mother off. It was a sensitive topic and Lorenzo did his best to keep his younger sister in the dark when it came to the actual inner workings of the family business. Their parents were both mafia royalty. But, Lorenzo didn't want his sister to just marry into another family and be another _wife_ like his mother. Which is way Lorenzo purposely kept her out of things and encouraged her to spend a few years in their home, Italy attending school until she came back to be with the family after her fathers death.

"I'm handling that too. Jail isn't gonna protect him."

"That's my point Enzo." Celine pleaded. "You know they're watching you too. They know you're itching to retaliate and if it isn't the NYPD it's whoever he's working with."

"So I let my kid sister take the metro down there for a half hour?" Lorenzo scoffed, questioning his mother. "We're leaving now, it's like a half hour drive if traffic isn't too bad." Lorenzo tried condensing his temper since his mother knew he hated talking about that happened to his father, especially infront of his sister. At the time of his fathers death, everything was perfect. Lorenzo was just getting out of jail for a 20 month sentence he had to face and his sister was preparing to come back to Brooklyn for the summer before her Junior year at the Fashion Industries High School. However, for one reason or another his younger sister relieved a gust of interest in the criminal law field and expressed to their parents she'd move back to the city and prepare to attend the Brooklyn law school.

"I can-" Beatrix tried to defuse the situation in her mothers favor but they both knew Lorenzo wouldn't back down.

"Beatrix, get in the car. Now." He said sternly.

"Enzo-"

"Get. In. The. Car." Lorenzo said dryly.

"Which one?" Beatrix whined. Today was going to be a good day. She could feel it. Every day back in Brooklyn hadn't been what she wanted. Not even when she crashed a party with her childhood friend Kassidy Reagan at the Copacabana. Nothing has been able to measure up to what she was dealing with.

"Brando." Lorenzo said casually. Brando was Lorenzo's 1968 DODGE CHARGER R/T. Lorenzo Calì named all of his dogs and all of his cars after Italian actors and her brother had a 1970s ascetic that stuck out like a sore thumb. Who else collected vintage cars in the city. No -fucking- one.

 **You know how much you love it when you get it in abundance**  
 **Give a fuck about a budget**  
 **When you always be the subject of discussion**  
 **But it's nothing when you stop and just say fuck it**

Duke Rockefeller groaned slightly, adjusting volume on his speakers, waiting on a Facetime answer from Prince Hilton, his best friend. Both the Rockefeller's and the Hilton's pulled strings that guaranteed their placement in the summer program, the interviewing process was just a formality. Everything in their lives came easy. They were young, handsome, rich and powerful. All they had to do was raise a finger and they got what they wanted. Prince, always pretended that he didn't enjoy the perks of their lifestyle but Duke embraced it all. They were born fortunate and their parents wanted them to continue on their legacies in whatever way they wanted to. Since their youth, both Duke and Prince spoke about a law profession while Duke's twin brother wanted a career in athletics. Even though Prince pretended not to want special treatment, it was apparent that he'd be relying on his families influence considering he didn't have the decency to show up to the interview.

"Sir Duke." Igor, the butler of the manor called out from behind his bedroom door.

"Yes, Igor?" Duke called out.

"Fried Egg with hazelnuts, chanterelles, green garlic, and blackberries, accompanied with croissants and caramelized brown sugar bacon have been prepared to commemorate your big interview." Igor spoke from behind the door. "Sir Harvard, has also requested your presence at the patio, along with a bottle of Albariño."

"Why?" Duke rolled his eyes. His twin brother was his best friend, though they were approaching their seventeenth birthday and Duke knew eventually they would grow apart especially since he was taking measures towards his future past high school.

"Because I love you bro." Harvard chuckled slightly, slapping Igor's shoulders shaking them vigorously. "Come on man." Harvard yelled. "Our Youtube is almost at 10 million subs, man. Come morning drink with me." Harvard chuckled slightly.

"Ten million?" Duke grinned, swinging his bedroom door open. YouTube had been a hobby for the twins since they were pre-teens but that's all it was, a hobby. They weren't Hilton's. The Hilton's were the ones who took pride in show business and being famous for no reason. It didn't excite Duke. However, being successful for just being _him,_ instead of being a Rockefeller did stand out to him.

William Hilton kept his hoodie closed as he made his way from the Upper East Side, down to the lower east, in an attempt to go unnoticed. Which, was easier than he thought considering the 'Where's William' games were still in full effect all over Manhattan. Ofcourse, his commute from Marpessa Monroe's room at the Dakota, to his family would be easier had the Hilton's not moved out of the Trump Towers amidst their family friends 2016 presidential campaign. Now, Boe's immediate family were staying in the Lower East Side at the Conrad, their fathers personal favorite hotel in the city though Boe remembered growing up in the Trump. The closer the young blonde got, the more Boe's stomach began to to cartwheels. And his heart, he could only assume he was going into cardiac arrest. The male didn't even get this feeling when he moved back to the city and was hiding with his ex. In-fact, he hadn't felt like this since he last stepped foot in the - well, Trump. It was where his 14th birthday party was hosted, where he deflowered Yale Rockefeller. The most coveted of honors in the Upper East Side that was to be reserved for his older brother, Prince. However, even though that wasn't the biggest part of his night, that was the final straw that sent him packing. He hadn't seen Yale, Prince or anyone else since. He had no contact with anyone in Manhattan aside from Marpessa, a few days prior to now. Even she was getting tired of his games. Boe was used to having the world in the palm of his hands. Getting exactly what he wanted without asking but now? Everything changed way too much for his liking. Would his family even care that he's back? He knew that his mother threw a party to honor him every year since he left. But, when did the Hilton's need a reason to throw a party? Another thing he knew was that they considered declaring him dead after a year of searching with no luck. Was he dead to them? He would be dead to everyone if Prince ever found out about his secret with Yale. The blonde felt like his head was spinning. And like he'd throw up. How could he come back without telling them _everything_ about why he left? As the taxi stopped infront of the Conrad, he actually felt like he might cry. His sister, Giselle, was leaning against the large grey couches, scrolling on her phone - probably through Gossip Girl. The entire reason William ended up leaving the city was because he couldn't face his family. None of them, not just Prince. Unfortunately, the boys sunken daze into _'what would happen once he fully came back'_ allowed time for his older sister to lock eyes with him, forcing him to walk into the grand doors of the hotel. Before he could fully enter the hotel, his sisters arms were already around him, squeezing him.

"Wh-Where were you?" Giselle's voice cracked as she waited on her younger brother to answer. She had dreamed of the moment her brother came back and feared the thoughts that it would be in worse circumstances but he looked healthy. Which actually pissed her off. The girl peaked around her shoulder and luckily, the Financial District was buzzing leaving no room for anyone to actually care what was going on with the Hilton's kids. Probably the only upside of living in Lower Manhattan instead of the Upper East. Giselle took her brothers arms and dragged him to the hotel elevators, hoping to go unnoticed while she got him to their wing.

* * *

ᴅɪsᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ: ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟ ɴᴀᴍᴇs ᴏғ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇs, ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ᴀʙʙʀᴇᴠɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴛ. ɴᴀᴍᴇʟʏ, ᴍᴇ.

Gossip Girl here, your one and only source into the scandalous lives of Manhattan's elite, rich and famous.

 _Spotted at The Conrad, hood over head: William 'Boe' Hilton! In the actual flesh with G's arms wrapped around him. Looks like Playboy Hilton is officially back in the Lower East Side just in time for the Boe Bash 2k19. As for why he left? That's a secret he can't keep forever. Xoxo, Gossip Girl._

* * *

Sending Boe Hilton packing was bittersweet. Just about every girl wanted to have him in her bed. In the palms of her hands and quite honestly - most of them have once or twice. However, Marpessa Monroe did exactly what she needed to do. And now, it was just about time for her to claim her spot in the 'Five' while Gossip Girl was still shifting. The 'Five' was a coveted elite group of girls that was started by the legendary Blair Waldorf ten years ago. It was meant to bring together the five top alphas of each of the five top private schools _._ Like a dynasty. To maintain an order of elite. Similar to a sorority, but for high school girls of the society. Over the last few years, Gossip Girl decided to take over the system and make sure the play-toys she were working with were exactly what she wanted. _And that they kept her entertained_. 'The Five' were the ultimate 'It Girls' chosen at the end of eighth grade, every four years. Marpessa just got lucky going into ninth grade during the election. However, in between years, Gossip Girl put the girls up for evaluation through-out the summer to see if they should be swapped out for other girls in their grade. It started years ago, at the beginning of tenth grade for a different group of girls, Cara Reagan got caught in a sext scandal with the English teacher at the time causing the family to send the blonde to a school in Sweden leaving her spot in the 'five' fair game. Which ultimately made every spot fair game in the art of fairness. By the end of each summer, Gossip Girl refreshes her picks of the season and that girl carry's on the title. So far, Marpessa has kept hers. There was also Yale Rockefeller - who would never fade as well as MahSuri Yeoh. MahSuri, was probably the most entertaining person in the Upper East Side. She was the heiress of some Filthy Rich Asian cooperation and the life of every wild party. Just recently she acquired a sex story and a murder investigation all in one sitting. Then their was Kassidy Reagan (Yes, like Cara) who attended Nightingale. Bitchy, blonde and beautiful - but not as interesting as Giselle Hilton who could secure a spot in the five had she not been attending the same school as Yale. Lastly and least interesting by a long slide was Ahnna Pincher. Never really mentioned on Gossip Girl aside from a very public hookup in the Rockefeller twins pool during Winter break. If Ahnna Pincher was a solidified alpha for two years now, Marpessa definitely didn't have to worry about her spot. But, she could never be too sure. The girls Versace 'chain reaction' sneakers sashayed up the staircase that led to the Rockefeller manor. It'd be a bold face lie to say that the Beaux-Arts townhouse wasn't the most breathtaking home in the city. From the Hermes leather walls to the quarter-sawn white oak wood floors it screamed Angela Rockefeller as well as Yale. It was the perfect home for the two women. The only thing anyone could see of Brock Rockefeller was the money that paid for it all.

"Yale?" Angela called out almost immediately after seeing Marpessa Monroe's perfect face. Marpessa's full lips formed a grin, as she waited to see the look on Yale Rockefeller's face when she exposed that _she_ had been the one hiding Boe Hilton all along. If anyone knew the deep history of Marpessa and Yale they'd know it was filled with tea that Gossip Girl would probably love to serve and the story with Boe Hilton? It was the the last drop to make the cup run over. No one knew what happened during Boe's last time in the city. No one but Yale, Boe and Marpessa- on accident. It was the blonde boys Tarantino party and Marpessa was dressed as the sexiest version of Broomhilda Von Shaft prepared to play role games with Mr. Blonde that her ancestors probably wouldn't approve of. As she slipped into Boe's room she saw that Yale beat her to it. Yale was shook, frantic and fully nude when Marpessa locked eyes with the brunette. And no, Yale's rare apologetic state had nothing to do with the girls 'budding' friendship and _everything_ to do with the fact that Yale had been in a very long-term relationship with Boe's **older brother** Prince. Hooking up with family members was not cute. Not even when they're both Hilton's. Marpessa often dreamed about what Prince would say when he found out. Or when the rest of the Upper East Side found out. Marpessa's heart had been broken for exactly five seconds before she realized she had been awarded a valuable chess piece in an elite game. However, she had been forced to hold on to it for years after Boe disappeared until the right time. Something she would never admit, was that she kept the secret for his sake. Monroe knew Boe adored Prince. And like the rest of the Upper East Side, Marpessa thought that Boe Hilton was dead. The girl didn't want to tarnish his legacy and Prince's memory of his baby brother like that. When he came back? Marpessa just wanted to be in his good graces. "Monroe is here." Angela spoke through the houses loud speaker. It was the way most Upper East Side families communicated. Plus the Rockefeller's usually didn't keep staff on the weekends. To stay humble. "She hasn't been feeling well lately."

"What are you talking about mother?" Yale appeared. "I feel fine." The brunette's voice soared around the foyer. The floors were filled with pink roses and Yale was in the most extra robe probably in the world. Anyone who were to see her would probably be believing her. But Marpessa only noticed the fact that she was still in sleep wear during brunch hours and when she entered the room she wasn't accompanied by Giselle. Something was wrong.

"Interesting." Marpessa spoke in a bored tone, sizing Yale up. Her eyes locked on the mason jar in Yale's hand and let out a light laugh. Marpessa knew that Angela, Yale's mother, was a frequent customer of Saje, Natural wellness and concocted her own Aromatherapy oils. Mostly things she wore as perfume or sprayed on furniture after her interior decorating work was done. It disgusted Lily-Marie. Marpessa detected neroli, sweet orange, and vetiver - an insecurity blend. "You know what they say, arrogance is the cloak of an insecure bitch."

"They say that?" Yale gulped. "I can't relate." The girls lips pouted slightly looking at Marpessa Monroe, who wasn't letting up. "What?" Yale whined looking at Marpessa, just wanting her to stop.

"Rocky." Marpessa giggled slightly, making her way around the home, in the opposite direction and to the Rockefeller family's kitchen. She wasn't invited to do so, but Marpessa Monroe was like a vampire. Once she was invited in, you couldn't get rid of him. Yale's YSL heels clicked down the grand staircase and behind Marpessa's steps, where she saw the the chocolate toned girl holding the families rose gold Santoku Knife, swirling it as she waited on Yale.

"Tu fais quoi, fou?" Yale gasped, speaking in almost a disgust as she watched Marpessa. The girl scoffed, rolling her eyes and walking closer to Yale Rockefeller, giving her a look that let her know she was waiting on Yale to tell her what was going on.

"Boe was living with me." Marpessa smirked.

"Was?" Yale challenged, looking at the girl, waiting on her response. Before the girl could speak her iPhone chirped, with a message from Gossip Girl.

"I obviously sent his ass home." Marpessa gestured towards Yale's phone. "You think he'll tell Prince why he left? Or would I get to do the honors? Maybe this would be the perfect time to let Gossip Girl know why he disappeared." The girl smirked deviously even though Yale didn't react.

"I don't care." Yale spoke slowly, walking around Marpessa and to her refrigerator where she seized her dark chocolate covered pretzels. Ofcourse, like any other 'It Girl', Yale's expression caused it to seem as if the girl really didn't care, but Marpessa knew better.

"Hm, your aura is _bright_ yellow." Marpessa explained.

"Exactly." Yale grinned, 'knowingly'.

"Bitch," Marpessa laughed at how clueless Yale was. She must've gotten it from her mother. "That ain't good." Marpessa continued. "Pale yellow can be good. But _bright_ yellow means-"

"Means?"

"You're losing control." Marpessa's words caused Yale to gasp and drop one of her pretzels. Making Marpessa feel almost at ease. "Now," Marpessa put the knife down and gestured for Yale to come closer. Reluctantly, Yale did. "Dis à maman comment aider." Marpessa spoke in her native, french tongue. Yale always enjoyed when they had conversations in French. Though, Yale rolled her eyes at Marpessa's statement and started to talk.

"We broke up already." Yale informed. It was real officially real that her relationship with Prince Hilton was over and for some odd reason, Marpessa was the first person she told. In a weird way, she knew it would make Marpessa feel better and it would also help _her._ Yale knew that Marpessa wasn't about to enable her when it came to Prince and she needed that. "Prince and I."

"Obviously." Marpessa pointed out. Smiling. "Wanna do a say-once? A cleanse." Yale knew - hell, Manhattan knew that Marpessa's mother referred to herself as a High Priestess. The family previously lived in New Orleans and especially when the Monroe family moved to the city, everyone felt that they were weird and created rumors. It was why Yale became friends with Marpessa. Her energy was dark but fabulous. She always wanted her on her good side but the moment Marpessa found Yale with Boe, Yale feared for the worst. She didn't know if she believed in what the family was known for, the paranoia of it all was probably enough for Marpessa since she never talked about this stuff. Until now.

"Why?" Yale rose her eyebrow. "You're being way too nice." Yale talked, looking at Marpessa. "Plus you said this stuff is mumbo-jumbo."

"Maybe it is." Marpessa shrugged nonchalantly. The girls dark brown eyes glanced over at Yale in a simple tone. "You already ruined my fun about telling everyone what you did with Mr. Blonde." Marpessa pointed out. "Plus you're Don-Rocky." Marpessa explained. "You're a bad bitch and I can't have fun this Hot Girl summer if you're moping around, worrying about Prince Hilton. Is he heartbroken too? Did you already tell him about Boe?"

"He cheated on me. I saw him." Yale explained.

"I can relate." Marpessa looked at Yale. Almost into her soul.

"Did you love Boe?" Yale asked.

"Did you?" Marpessa challenged. "I mean you lost your virginity to him." Marpessa asked. Marpessa could remember a year later, sometime in September when their group, (Marpessa, Yale, Giselle, Prince, the twins, Kassidy, and Austin) were at Austin's family's cabin in Lake Placid, everyone made a big deal out of Yale and Prince 'losing' it during the camping trip but Marpessa knew better. "Could Prince tell that you were already experienced?"

Yale stayed quiet, blinking slightly. For a moment, Yale actually tried to answer the question in her own head before she scoffed. "Just teach me how to do the shit." Yale demanded. Could Prince tell that Yale wasn't a virgin during that camping trip? Ever since Boe Hilton started popping up, Yale's thoughts were filled with what would happen if Prince knew about Boe. Maybe that's why he was doing this? Since forever, Yale has been going crazy about these rumors that were swirling about Prince with other girls and did she really have a right? She did cheat on him. Yale stood up straight and sighed slightly as she watched Marpessa circle the kitchen island. Maybe she shouldn't even be mad, but she was. And hurt. "Did you tell him? Prince." Yale asked.

"Without you knowing? No." Marpessa grinned. "Now, are you happy, or angry? High road or low?"

"Why?"

"Oh, just for fun." Marpessa spoke.

"I'm fucking pissed." Yale answered.

"Okay. Well come to my house with me."

"Why?" Yale's eyebrows rose. "To get your moms like ... cauldron?" She asked. Yale had been to Marpessa's house before and it looked exactly how she imagined it to look. Slightly haunted, though very luxe.

"This isn't American Horror Story, babe." Marpessa stated. "I prefer the craft. Just like I prefer to dress for the occasion."

* * *

Duke's eyes wandered around the room filled with the group of 15 potential interns for the Department of Justice. There were only two spots. One for Duke and one for his best friend Prince Hilton- who still hasn't showed up for the interviews. Prince has an internship with Nate Archibald, the mayor and his personal idol. But come on, it was the least that he could do. Duke knew Prince spoke about a career in law. Not politics and he didn't resonate much with his work with the mayor except to say that he was just about the coolest guy ever. Duke fidgeted slightly as the two attorney's spoke to the group. Duke knew them both. Julie Rendelman was from Brooklyn which meant she was tough as fuck. Brooklyn girls intimidated the hell out of Duke. Duke differed from the other guys in the society. Normally, the men were powerful and successful and their women were arm-candy. They looked pretty, spent money and planned parties. Sure, women in the Upper East Side were CEOs of multi-cooperate businesses but that was for fashion, and makeup. Julie was the real deal. The Deputy Bureau Chief of Homicide. What he wanted to build up to. Then there was Kristen Epifania was gorgeous. Both Duke and Prince appreciated when pretty people got nice things. She was also an associate attorney with the Law Offices of Julie Rendelman. She works on both misdemeanor and felony matters with the firm, as well as family court matters. Duke glanced over the candidates and only one stood out. A dark haired girl with the most gorgeous eyes. And lips. And everything out. Duke could've probably been drooling. She looked like the kind of girls that his cousin Yale would hang out with. Or that Gossip Girl would report on. Infact, she looked very familiar to him though he knew she didn't exactly belong there. Duke _must've_ been drooling because his gaze was cut off by the girl winking her sea foam green eye at him. Duke cleared his throat and sat up straight, focusing on what Julie was saying. What was she saying? Beatrix Calì caught the attention of one of Manhattan's elite. She could just tell. The brunette's world was speed boats, Versace coats, jail bird scars and gold tooth smiles. She was born in Brooklyn and raised between there and Florence, Italy. Which meant she only heard rumors of this lifestyle from her childhood friend, Kassidy Reagan. Kassidy's father owns and runs Reagan Cosmetics which was a huge fucking deal in Manhattan. They met when she was shadowing her god-mother, Donetella Versace for fashion week 2012. Everything was grunge which Beatrix didn't like. What she _did_ like was the makeup _selection,_ that there was another girl her age in the venue. Kassidy was attending back stage with her step-mother Pandora Regan who was a good friend of Donetella's. The blonde girl kept her in the loop of the things that went on in the Upper East Side. It always sounded wild, complex and interesting. When Beatrix was younger, she might admit that she went around with Kassidy hoping to get a glimpse of her world. Though when she moved to Florence, Kassidy sent her the link to  , specifically her features. She scrolled and became immersed in it all. The intermission started and the interns were greeted with the most off-putting bagels and coffee, along with the option to leave and grab lunch.

"You know," Beatrix spoke seductively, towering over the boy who kept his head down, probably in embarrassment. "When I wore this bright ass color, I knew I'd light up these drab ass offices." She shifted her tan, toned legs since it was probably his only view of her. Lucky boy. The girl lifted his face gently, by placing her index finger under his chin and grinning. "Juding by the drool, I can say I did my job."

"Whaa-" Duke sat up, clearing his throat and rubbing the sides of his face. _Was he actually drooling?_

"Stop it." Beatrix smirked, shaking her head. "There's a coffee store next door. Come with me." She demanded, though it was kind of sexy.

"Okay," Duke shrugged, standing and following the girl out of the offices. She held his hand, as if she were leading him. Even though she stayed silent, Duke was already mesmerized by her. The pair walked right into the Blue Spoon Coffee Company and Duke hummed slightly, not knowing where to start. He could already tell he has never met a girl like her. "What do you wanna get?" Duke asked, reaching for his wallet.

"Sweetheart," The girl spoke. "I could buy this coffee shop." She assured him. "And you,"

"Slow down," Duke chuckled. "You must not know who you're talking to."

"Same." She smirked and turned her attention to the menu. "Dessert panini and a latte." She told the cashier and gestured for Duke to order his things. "Come on, I'm paying." She wiggled her eyebrows.

"I can't let you do that." Duke threw his hands up. "You'll ruin my reputation." The guys had a rule against letting pretty girls buy their own drinks. Sure, it applied to alcohol but it had to count for lattes considering this girl wasn't just pretty.

"You have a reputation in the financial district?" Beatrix asked playfully. "I'm impressed."

"I'm impressive."

"And I insist."

* * *

Giselle Hilton was rarely at a loss for words. However, in this moment, she was stunned. The blonde haired girl watched as her baby brother ate in the kitchen of their penthouse at the Conrad. Previously, the disappearance of Boe Hilton was the only thing in the Upper East Side that left the girl in shock. It was the exact thing that brought Gossip Girl out of retirement, being the Gossip blogs first post to make it to actual news outlets since Dan Humphrey admitted he was the originator. Now, he was in the family kitchen and Giselle didn't even know where to start. "Where the fuck have you been?" The girls full lips demanded as she watched Boe devour the cheese board that Nicholas Hilton left out for his colleges as he did every Sunday, even though the men never touched it - keeping casual conversation before they made their way to the Golf course. Boe blinked slightly and looked up at his sister for a moment. Staying quiet, ofcourse. What could he say to her? To everyone? Giselle had no idea what she'd expect, but Gigi felt like the entire family was owed an explanation and it had to start with her. The boy vanished. There was no trace of Boe for years, and the family almost declared him dead. Giselle held her breath as she waited before she let out a release. She'd probably suffocate herself if she waited on her brothers respond.

"Gi," Boe bit his lip. She could see the hurt behind his eyes and honestly, who would leave this lifestyle without a word _or_ a good reason? She had to respect that.

"Were you okay?" Giselle pouted, sighing slightly. Her voice cracked. This conversation could lift a weight off of the girls shoulders that had been holding her down for years now.

"Yes." Boe said innocently. It was hard to grasp what his withdraw from the Upper East Side had done to his family but he didn't think about it. He only thought about himself - something he always did. All he knew was he had to go and he wasn't ready to talk about it. Even if he was, who could he run to? Giselle would probably down-play things because to her, 'nothing is ever _that_ serious'. Giselle Hilton was a free-spirited wildchild. Something that Boe thought he was. What Giselle and Boe had in common was that they rarely thought things through. They lived in the moment and did whatever they felt like doing in the moment. Giselle never had any worries and Boe wished he remembered how that felt. Then there was Prince. The person that Boe knew he could talk about anything with. But not _this._ Prince would hide a body for him, but he wouldn't understand this and he'd never forgive him.

"Are you back for good?" Giselle bit her lip, trying not to cry as she watched her brother nod slowly. The girls arms flung around her baby brother as she exhaled once again.

* * *

Austin watched. In almost disgust, as MahSuri got dressed in her walk-in closet. Not because she was in lingerie, it wasn't the first time he saw the girl stripped down. But because for the first time since forever, he knew that MahSuri was hiding something from him. They told each other **everything**. Austin had literally assisted MahSuri with an at home STD test. But now? She crossed paths with Lorenzo Calì and he knew something about Suri that Austin didn't. He hated it. Austin Roosevelt was offically used to being outcasted but it just hurt different when it involved Suri. Austin leaned on the Emerald pearl marble cabinet that showcased all of MahSuri's cultural jewels as he wondered what she had to do to acquire an entire wing at the Waldorf in the matter of days. The dark haired male kept his eyes fixed on the skull tattoo on his hand as he mustered up the courage to ask her a question he didn't really want a real answer to. "Em," Austin called out, watching the girls porcelain face provide her full attention to him through their reflections in her mirror. "When you and Enzo snuck off at dinner, what exactly happened?"

"We ... talked." MahSuri spoke coyly as she hoped Austin didn't ask more - though, she knew he would. She gave Austin a hard time about aligning himself with Lorenzo and the Gambino family, and now she had just done the same. Austin scoffed and stood up straight, turning straight to the door. If she wasn't going to be real with him, then he didn't want to be around her, simple as that. The male had been chewed up and spit out by faux friends of the Upper East Side and even though he hated to group the girl with the rest of them he felt like he might have to. "Aussie." the girl spoke in a baby voice. Her arms reached around his body and pulled at his toned shoulders as she watched him for a moment. She rested her hands on his cheek bones before she pushed his dark hair out of his face. Her petite hands played with his ear in a moment of calming silence before he swatted her hands away.

"Stop bullshitting me." Austin said sternly. "I know how Enzo works I mean, I got caught up to." Austin reminded her. He knew the way Lorenzo did business and how he showered his colleagues with things like Ferrari's and hotel wings. He also knew that Lorenzo was like a genie. There was always a catch.

"You said he was a good guy." MahSuri spoke. "Or well, not as bad as he seems."

"He," Austin sighed, licking his lips. What could he say? He hated hypocrites and he couldn't exactly bring himself to tell MahSuri not to do something that he was doing himself. And Austin wasn't prepared to stop selling for Lorenzo if MahSuri happened to accept an alter mattum. Lorenzo Calì was his fairy God-Father, after all. "I just wanna have your back. And be the only person you can talk about this with, like you are for me." Austin pleaded. No one else in their circle would listen to her without judgement. At his words, MahSuri pulled away from the boy and grabbed a mink fur coat from one of the racks, tossing it on the floor, and using it as a seat. The moment of silence was used for the girl to take in her new scenery, reflect on where she was this time last week, making it easier to face Austin with what she was about to say.

* * *

Harvard's heart raced as he pumped the iron of the Rockefeller family gym, using the time home alone to distract himself from everything. The excitement of his Youtube channel with his brother hitting 10 million followers. The craziness of Boe Hilton's return. And ofcourse, his budding ... 'situation-ship' with José the _gay_ bartender. Everytime he thought about the long haired male, his own hormones raced. And, he hadn't stopped thinking about him since their night together after 'KISS'. Dispite ignoring José's texts, Harvard was still posting workout videos on Snapchat, making sure José was watching, and fighting to ignore his replies. What could he do? Enable himself? Harvard knew his sexual number was pushing thirty's with double digits of people he didn't think twice about. The only thing that made José different from the rest was the fact that he was a 'he', making Harvard's thoughts about him reflect something about himself that he didn't know he was ready for. Harvard drank nearly half of his smart water at once trying to distract himself, or drown himself (whichever came first) before he got a text from Giselle Hilton, the one of his closest friends. She was also living proof that **a)** he was sexually interested in girls, **b)** that he and his twin brother, Duke were definitely identical twins - both being sexually interested in the same girl at one point, **c)** that liking the same girl wouldn't effect them, **d)** sex with friends can be casual and **e)** they could definitely keep a secret considering that Prince, Boe and Yale never found out that both Duke and Harvard hooked up with Giselle before. Sure, with Duke and Giselle things were different. They were still 'endgame' for Harvard and the Rockefeller/Hilton merger, while things with Harvard and Giselle were sexual, never romantic. Harvard always had trouble having actual romantic interest in women. Harvard's eyes shot out of his face when he read the text message from the girl.

 **blonde bombscare**

 _Boe is back ... he wants to see everyone_

* * *

"Are we gonna like ... say a spell or something?" Yale Rockefeller bat her eyelashes as she immersed herself in whatever it was Marpessa was planning. After one makup change, a sequin kimono and the fastest hair wrapping Yale had ever seen, the girl was now imitating Marpessa Monroe's infamous grin. Marpessa's chocolate eyes cut at the girl as she let out a light laugh, shaking her head. "What you see today doesn't leave this room. I will affect you if they do." The girl warned as she watched Yale. The girl sat up straight and watched, waiting on what Marpessa had to say next. "What's your religion?"

"Christian, I guess." Yale answered. "Mostly Christian Louboutin." The dark haired girl giggled slightly to lighten her mood, or, her nerves.

"Well this is Vodu." Marpessa informed, casually, ofcourse. After the question, Yale started to think about what life was like growing up as a person who celebrated Vodu. The Rockefeller family owned Christmas, she couldn't imagine anything different but she remembered when she tried inviting Marpessa to the X-Mas festivities. The girl was the only person to ever decline an invitation from Yale Rockefeller and she did so to celebrate 'Kwanza' back in NOLA with her family. Marpessa never took the time to explain it all to Yale and Yale didn't care enough to look it up herself. "And this, is a revenge ritual." Marpessa added. The girl adjusted the 'ingredients' in the middle of Yale's Cavalli Venezia comforter. "A punishing curse."

"Looks like a cinnamon dolce latte to me."

"Literally Rock, I make the best ones." Marpessa raved.

"After." Yale instructed, watching to see what Marpessa could do. Marpessa hummed slightly as she stood over a pot of water. She gestured, and Yale jumped, practically running to Marpessa's side, throwing her face into the pot expecting more than just water rolling her eyes when Marpessa burst into laughter.

"Girl, do you have it?" 'It' being a photograph of Prince Hilton and Yale had plenty. She was very old school and had them printed and framed in her bedroom. God, she loved him. Thinking about how much she loved him, made her actually hate him. Looking at the picture she took of him on the porch of his familys cabin, she remembered how happy they were during the camping trip that consummated their relationship.

"Yes." Yale said softly, sitting the picture on the table with the rest of the ingredients. Marpessa took Yale's hands and sat them inside of the pot.

"Close your eyes." Marpessa continued to hum. "Remember year of the 'wood'? Marpessa asked in a chirpy tone. Year of the wood, was last year. Yale and Prince's fifth year anniversary. Everyone thought they were a married couple since before they officially got together so when they did, they decided to play into it. "When literally everyone thought he'd gift wrap his hard dick for you, but he actually signed up for Deborah Mills classes and carved you a little Tiffany's box," Marpessa smiled, watching Yale light up.

"It was painted all ugly." Yale beamed. "I still have it."

"You should destroy it." Marpessa stated. "Like how he destroyed your self-esteem, your future and the vision you had of being 'YRH'! Don't you literally have a monogrammed robe?"

"I do!" Yale yelled.

"There goes the only time you'll be saying _that_ phrase." Marpessa taunted, watching as Yale got angrier. "Have you even been back on fifth since that incident? You can't even immerse yourself in retail therapy. He tainted you _and_ you're territory!"

"Will this kill him?! Because I really wanna-"

"Slow the fuck down, white girl." Marpessa shook Yale's shoulders. "How about we harness this energy, into these." Marpessa gestured to the cinnamon sticks resting on the mustard comforter. She took one, biting down on it before gesturing for Yale to grab the rest. What type of sociopath eats raw cinnamon sticks? "This water is fueled with negative energy." The water was already filled with water, vinager, milk and negativity, what could seven cinnamon sticks add to the equation? "Now we just have to summon the elements, and invoke them to do your revenge bidding." Marpessa put simply. "What do you want to happen? And no, we aren't killing him."

"I want him to hurt. Like I am." Yale pouted. "And literally. I want him to get painfully sick. He never gets sick and I feel like he deserves it." Yale rambled as Marpessa mumbled things she didn't understand - she knew it wasn't French. "And I wanna make it so he can't get hard for that fucking blonde. Or cum for her. Not the way he does with me."

"Did." Marpessa reminded. "You better not go back to him after this." Marpessa scoffed.

"Like how you pulled some shit that made Boe disappear and then let him stay with you?"

"I never did that." Marpessa spoke. She wanted to, but she didn't.

"What about on me?"

"You're a self-distructor. I didn't have to do shit to you." Marpessa shook her head.

* * *

MahSuri sat on her floor, waiting for Austin's reaction but what could he say? He definitely didn't approve of MahSuri setting up a random guy for Lorenzo, but he also had been living on the street at one point thanks to his family cutting him off. Like MahSuri, somehow Lorenzo appeared in Austin's darkest hour. Austin fell into a depression when he felt like he lost everything. At one point, he thought the only thing he had was drugs. Which was where Enzo came in to everything. Growing up, everyone knew that Austin had the best drugs - which made his job now easier. Austin, always got his drugs from Lorenzo, someone he met once traveling to Brooklyn with his old friend, Boe Hilton. The little bit of money Austin did have, went to one pizza and an eightball that he finished in two days. Austin literally ran back to Lorenzo's warehouse and slept outside to beg for more when Lorenzo, actually felt bad. Lorenzo never looked down on him. Even when Austin was strung out, on the ground, Enzo knelt down to his level before speaking. Smirking, and quoting the Joker of all people. _'Smile, because it confuses people. Smile, because it's easier than explaining what is killing you inside.'_ Austin never found fascination in Superhero movies. But, his fascination with Lorenzo Calì made him look into them with a new light. Enzo looked up to the villains. Now, Austin did too. And he understood MahSuri.

"He asked if I wanted to officially join the family." Suri said casually since she already accepted. _If you're good at something, never do it for free._

"You know what the girls in that family do?" Austin pointed out. The girls were treated with respect by the men, as far as Austin could tell. However, he knew the way they worked, he didn't want that for the girl. Suri was definitely better than that.

"Yeah." Suri nodded, watching Austin. What made selling drugs better than selling sex? It was legal in places. Dealing cocaine was illegal in every place.

"You know what their initiation for the girls is?"

"No."

"You roll a dice, and you fuck." Austin spoke. "If you get a 'one', you're lucky. If you get six, then you have six mafia members on you at once until _they wanna stop."_

"That doesn't sound-"

"Like what? Gang workings? Haven't you seen 'Havoc'?" Austin practically yelled. "You know Enzo's last name?" Austin asked.

"Calì?"

"He's mafia royalty. Like, how I'm a Roosevelt and a DuPont." Austin explained, though it made no sense to MahSuri. "How about look up the Iamonte family, in Italy and how they run their mob because they are his close relation in real life. Not association like the Gambinos." Austin pleaded, and Suri scoffed. Where was this actually going? Suri shoved herself from the floor and pushed past the boy making her way through her closet.

"You just said he was a nice guy!"

"I don't want you caught up in this, S."

"Well too fucking late!" Suri defended. "I told him I'm in and I'm going over there tonight!"

"Noooooo," Austin gripped Suri's arms. "No the fuck you're not."

"Do you see this shit?" MahSuri yelled as she gestured around the closet. She'd do anything to maintain her lifestyle and so would everyone raised in the Upper East Side. Suri didn't do this to herself, she was dealing with the repercussions of her fathers crimes. "What did you do to get down with the mob?" Suri challenged, pushing Austin. Austin never actually talked about how he got into the Gambino family. Suri heard the story about how Enzo found him at the warehouse and how he was given the car, but never anything else."I was living in my fucking car last week." Suri pointed out, waiting on Austin to talk to her.

"You aren't doing this." Austin said sternly.

"I am." Suri challenged the male.

* * *

Prince's phone had been blowing up the entire day. To the point that he left his iPhone back at the Conrad. It could've been a perfect unplug, if he didn't bring his Apple Watch. He had been ignoring phone calls and text messages from his family, his sister, Duke. But none from Yale Rockefeller. Prince knew he loved Yale after everything. He had always spoke about how he wanted to marry her and he swore that he would. Over the years however, things changed. Maybe Prince just wanted more. Prince stepped out of the family's car and made his way back to Harkness mansion. Maybe it wasn't best for Prince to be back here, but things with Yale were officially over and all he wanted to do is see Abigail. The guilt of cheating on Yale, had made it hard to talk to Abigail after he kissed her, so he ghosted her for about a day. Though, Abigail was nothing like Yale. Prince told her that he had been busy and she accepted that. Abigail told Prince about the day she had, and said she had time if he wanted to come over. He definitely did. The girl felt like a breath of fresh air that he desperately needed at the moment. "Well if it isn't my Prince charming?" Abigail smiled brightly, in a chirpy voice and his heart fluttered. Prince licked his lips, before leaning in to kiss the girl, smiling through it. The girl slid her hands down to the males hand, holding it as she led him into her home. Prince followed the girl, though his eyes were fixated on his Apple watch that kept flashing. His pace reduced, which caught Abby's attention _._ "You okay?" the girls starry eyes watched him.

"Yeah." Prince said boyishly.

"You always say that," Abigail pointed out, playing with Prince's fingers. "But,"

"But?"

"I just get the feeling that you're so guarded." Abigail elucidated. "I mean, I guess I get it, since we don't really know one another that well."

"We can get to know each-other." Prince suggested with a smirk.

* * *

Duke Rockefeller mentally admired just about everything about Beatrix Calì. Duke had never met anyone like her. The Upper East Side girls just didn't hold a candle. Duke's gaze shifted from Beatrix, to his iPhone, rolling his eyes slightly. Beatrix scoffed slightly, letting her full lips curl into a grin. The dark haired girls expression made Duke raise his eyebrow. "What?" He asked, as his one dimple shimmered. Even though Beatrix was wearing heels, Duke towered over her which was something that his cousin Yale said was a recipe for a power couple. It wasn't law, but when things didn't go the way he wanted with Giselle Hilton, Duke did think about that statement and Giselle's height. Duke shook his head jokingly and shoved his phone in his pocket. In the back of his head, he wondered what would happen once the internship officially started, and she wasn't involved. In the moment, to prove to her _who he was_ , Duke mentioned that he knew the internship was rigged in the favor of himself and his friend, Prince. _"Oh, so you're relying on your reputations? That means you know you don't have as much as I do. Noted." _Confidence exuded from this girl. But, Duke knew that he was right. And judging by the fact that he hadn't seen Duke until this point, it probably meant that he'd never see the girl again, unless ...

"You got a ride?" Duke fished as he looked over at Beatrix. Their entire day was filled with casual conversation, bragging and slight flirting which Duke wasn't used to. Sure, he tried. He truly did. But being a player was more of his brothers thing. Harvard and Boe were the notorious ones. They could both get any girl they wanted. Then there was Prince. He was basically married to Yale, but he was also a charmer. They all knew it. No one was allowed to say anything about it though. Duke wasn't good at it. Hell, he was even worse than Austin. Beatrix thought about Duke's question and mentally weighed her options. Her ride there, was her older brother, Lorenzo. Who, said he'd come get her -and yes, he texted her a couple times to ask if she still needed it. The thing about getting Lorenzo to come back and pick her up, was that it was risky business as well as a conflict of interest since her brother did not need to be back at the Department of Justice. However, did she really want this guy driving her to her house?

"Are you offering one?" Beatrix's mink lashes fluttered.

"Maybe." Duke grinned, waiting on a response before Beatrix nodded reluctantly. "Well, I mean, where are you headed? Brooklyn?" Duke fished again.

"I'm from Brooklyn." Beatrix smirked. "But I live on fifth." Beatrix smirked, winking slightly while Duke nodded in approval.

"Hotel?"

"Mansion. You?"

"I live at the Lincoln."

"I should start calling you 'square'." Beatrix teased.

"No." Duke chuckled. "Please, no." The male laughed slightly.

"Yes." Beatrix teased with her own little giggle.

* * *

Lorenzo glanced at his iPhone XMAX and chuckled more to himself before putting his phone on his office desk. His shifted his Harvey Dent bust, and sat down as he watched his office door open. The male adjusted his turquoise blue Prada jacket as Tommy led MahSuri Yeoh into his quarters of the mansion. Overall, Suri was actually impressed. The Calì family home was like a Roman museum. The inside was actual art, or, like a movie and Lorenzo's office was a conundrum. It was exactly as she imagined, but completely different all at once. Being invited in, suddenly made her feel important. Especially in knowing none of the girls have seen the inside, but now she has. "Did you get my text?" MahSuri asked, only after she heard Tommy shut the door completely. Suri tossed her hair off of her shoulder and smirked, waiting on an answer from Lorenzo, who chuckled slightly as the girl walked closer to her. Lorenzo then nodded simply and watched her before gesturing for her to come closer. The girl slide her hands down to Lorenzo's lap, shyly playing with his zipper while he didn't even flinch. Damn, there was something about him.

"I got something for you, if you're really serious." Lorenzo looked at Suri, tilting her chin, so that she was looking at him, instead of his lap. Lorenzo's power exuded from him without him having to speak at all.

"Oh, I'm definitely serious." MahSuri assured him. "I'll do anything."

* * *

 **Hey babes! Hope you like this! If you follow the Tumblr, I am still working out bugs with the character pages, but, I will be answering questions about this story and/or characters AS characters while I try to fix this.**

 **Would love to read your reveiws. Apologies ahead of time for** **grammar** **and thanks so much for reading.**


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